


Arsonist's Lullaby

by quillghost



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 57,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6740500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillghost/pseuds/quillghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I get my memories back, would you still love me then?”<br/>Hermione reached for her, laced their fingers together, “Bella, if you ever got your memories back you’d kill me on the spot,”<br/>The older witch leaned in close enough for Hermione to hear her crystal clear over the storm, “Never. Now that I have you, nothing can take you from me. I’d burn down anything that tried,"<br/>With their fingers tightly interlocked and those coal black eyes burning into her own, Hermione knew she would let her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a hozier song. I'm now on tumblr as bellatrixblacks.tumblr.com

Bellatrix Black had never feared death. In all her years of living, death had been a close companion, a welcome shadow, an inevitability she understood better than anyone. She had sent countless people to the grave, her pale and sallow face the last thing they saw on this earth. She’d always imagined dying in the throes of battle, taking hundreds with her on her way down. She’d imagined dying alone, unloved and feared, with no one to grieve her demise. It was what she deserved, after all.

She never considered that one day she would die in the arms of someone who loved her.

This girl, this obnoxious, gentle, brave, compassionate love of hers sobbed and begged for her to stay. Bellatrix would, if she could. She would kill and die for this girl but most importantly she would defy death and  _live_ for her if it was possible. Bellatrix would give anything in that moment to do this for her, after everything that had been done for her.

They say your life flashes before your eyes before you leave this world. Bellatrix had lived two lives, one began the day she was born and the second began the day she met Hermione Granger. Bellatrix’s years with her had been the only ones that mattered, here, at the end. It had been her first life, the life wrought with darkness and blood and utterly devoid of love that cost her the second life. All it took was one mistake, one stupid, reckless decision that led to her final demise.

Bellatrix’s mouth filled with the metallic taste of regret-or was that blood?-as she cursed herself for not being smarter with her second chance. She would pray for a third chance if she believed in a higher power, or if she believed she deserved one at all. After all, she hadn’t deserved the second chance to begin with.

She was grateful for it all the same. Dying like this, with the love of her life clutching at her as if she could physically tether her to this world, was more than she deserved. She opened her mouth to tell her so, but all that came out was a pathetic sputtering noise as she choked on her blood.

Hermione cleared her airway with a spell but more blood quickly took its place. It was alright. Hermione must know what she meant to her after everything they’ve been through. Bellatrix lifted a hand to trace over her cheekbones and down the slope of her nose, to dance across her lips. If there was an afterlife, she doubted it’d be half as beautiful as the face in front of her.

 _Do you remember the day we met?_ Bellatrix wanted to ask,  _Not in the Department of Mysteries. You know the day I mean, don’t you?_   _I will never forget the way you looked at me. Everyone in the room either hated me or pitied me. You looked at me with such curiosity. You were trying to figure me out from that first moment. Did you ever succeed?_

There was so much she wanted to say to her, so much she would never get the chance to convey. She wanted to say,  _you saved me in more ways than you can imagine._ She wanted to tell her  _there is not a memory spell in the world that could take those moments with you away from me._ Instead, she only tugged a hand through thick, tangled hair.

It was becoming impossible to keep her eyes open. All she wanted was to die looking at what she loved most but death was cruel and her eyes slipped shut against her will. Instead, she contended herself with images of the life she lived. The life that began with a deafening  _crack_. 

* * *

The first clear memory Bellatrix possessed snapped into focus as she apparated onto a grassy field overlooking a great castle. Her mind searched for something that came before this moment but she came up blank. It was as if she’d apparated into existence.

 _Apparating_. _Why do I know what that is?_

She felt like she was going to be sick. There were disjointed concepts floating through her mind but she struggled to understand them. If she picked a subject and focused, she knew what it was but didn’t know _how_ she knew. For instance she knew the thin piece of wood in her sleeve was a wand but she had no memory of obtaining it and wasn’t entirely sure how to use it.

She knew she only had one option. There must be a reason she was here, facing this oddly familiar castle.

Hissing out a harsh breath between her teeth, Bellatrix Lestrange wrapped her arms around herself and began taking shaky, uncertain steps forward.

When Bellatrix was close enough to see the huge front door it creaked open and an older witch stepped out. She sped up her pace, her steps becoming frantic at the sight. However, when she got close enough to see the other witch’s face, the witch drew her wand.

“Stop right there! Another step and I’ll knock you on your arse before you can touch your wand!” The woman’s shrill voice had an air of authority that made Bellatrix pause.

When she didn’t move any further the witch continued, “What is the meaning of this?”

Bellatrix put her hands in the air and called back, “I-I need help! Will you help me?”

The witch seemed to be at a loss. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

When met only with silence Bellatrix stepped forward again, “What is this-"

“Not another step!” The woman cut her off.

Bellatrix paid her no mind, continuing to come closer, “Please, just tell me-"

This time she was cut off with a spell instead of words. She feel backwards, rigid, and the last thing she saw was the moon cutting through the utter blackness of the night sky.

Hermione naturally woke up at six a.m.  no matter what each day had in store for her. There was a beauty and a quietness to waking up before the rest of the world. Which is why she knew something was amiss when she woke up to someone shaking her shoulder before she had a chance to wake up on her own. She squinted up at Ginny, leaning over her with her red hair tickling Hermione’s face.

Hermione sat straight up, causing Ginny to jerk out of her way to avoid a collision.

“What is it? Whats happening?” Hermione asked, disoriented and frantic.

“Everyone’s waiting in the halls,” Ginny whispered, “I’ll let Harry explain,”

“Who’s everyone?” Hermione asked, throwing off her covers to dress hurriedly.

Ginny didn’t answer, just waited for her to get ready before pulling her out of the dormitories and into the hall. By “everyone” Ginny had meant Harry and Ron, who were slumped against the wall opposite them. Ron looked exhausted but Harry had that light in his eyes he tended to get right before they got in some kind of trouble.  

“I heard a rumor,” Harry began, “Or rather, I heard from Dean who heard from Seamus who saw McGonagall and Professor Snape carrying  _Bellatrix Lestrange_ into the infirmary,”

“What?” Hermione squeaked, “That can’t be right. Why would…”

“It’s what we’re all wondering,” Ron said, “so we’re going to find out for ourselves,”

Hermione couldn’t argue with that logic. She was just as curious to see what the infamous witch was doing at their school. They fell into a tense silence until they neared the infirmary.

Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm before they could enter, “Harry,” she ventured, “The last time you saw her…”

“She killed Sirius, I know,” Harry responded tightly.

“What are you going to do if she’s really in there?”

The two Weasley’s stopped with them to see what he’d say.

Harry’s expression darkened, “Dunno,” He pushed passed them and into the infirmary. Hermione looked and the two redheads exchanged similar looks of worry before following their friend inside.

Hermione got two steps in before she ran right into Harry’s back. Which of course cause Ginny to bump into her and Ron to stumble into his sister. When Hermione stepped around him, she saw what had stopped him dead in his tracks.

The Death Eater was indeed lying unconscious in one of the beds. McGonagall, Snape and Dumbledore were gathered by her bedside and appeared to be deep in conversation.

“Blimey, it’s really her,” Ron said loudly, and immediately the three adults looked up.

“Well I can’t say I’m surprised to see you,” McGonagall commented dryly.

Hermione was fixated on the dark witch, barely registering her professor’s words. It was surreal to see the woman sleeping, when they had only ever seen her wild and taunting, viscous and crazed. Hermione’s eyes drifted down the woman’s form, her black dress down to her feet, still clad in heeled boots and took note that she was restrained, cuffed to the bed by her hands and feet.

“What makes you think you have any right to be here?” Snape demanded.

Harry tore his eyes away from the witch at the same time Hermione did and snapped, “She  _killed_ my god father! I have every right-”

“To be here,” Dumbledore interjected softly, “Yes of course you do Harry,”

“I don’t know, Harry,” Ginny murmured, visibly uncomfortable with the situation, “Maybe we should just go get ready for class. She’s not even conscious,”

“You all can go,” Harry said tersely, “I’m not going anywhere,”

A flash of hurt crossed her face before she turned hurriedly and left.

“Miss Weasley had a point,” McGonagall said, “If you don’t have any personal business here, it’s best if you go on to class and tell no one what you saw here,”

None of the three remaining students budged and McGonagall gave a withering sigh before dropping the issue. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room while the students and professors stared at each other, all at a loss for what to do.

Harry took a breath to speak but was cut off when Bellatrix woke with a start. Gasping wildly, she sat up and began jerking her arms and legs against the restraints to no avail.

“Miss Lestrange,” McGonagall’s commanding voice cut through the witch’s panic, “You’d do well to calm down,”

Bellatrix stilled, her dark eyes darting frantically between the faces in the room. Dumbledore was a blank, analytical slate, Snape was eyeing her wearily, Harry’s face was hard with anger and McGonagall stern as ever. When the witch’s eyes met hers for the briefest of moments, Hermione was floored by the difference between now and the last time she’d looked into the black orbs. In the ministry, they’d been sinister and so full of malice it had been difficult to hold the contact; now they sucked her in, pulled at something inside her so much so that she felt almost disappointed when they left her.

“Where am I?” Bellatrix asked shrilly, “Who are you people?”

Snape’s thick brows pulled together in a scowl, “You mean to suggest you don’t know? What are you playing at, Lestrange?”

Bellatrix seemed only to sink deeper into her fog of fear and outrage.

“It’s no game, you bloody fools,” she hissed. Abruptly her face smoothed, her mood shifting. Her lower lip pushed out into a pout Hermione had seen once before but now the expression was vulnerable rather than belittling. “I don’t know- I can’t seem to…”

“What do you know?” Dumbledore interjected softly.

Hermione felt Harry bristle next to her, dissatisfied with the sympathy being shown to the murderer.

Bellatrix’s eyes fluttered shut as she searched for an answer. She curled in on herself as much as she could with the restraints, her head hanging and her dark curls blocking her face. “Nothing…I don’t even know what it is you’re calling me. Lestrange?” she muttered.

Hermione glanced at Harry in shock. He had only been growing in anger since they entered the room and finally he snapped.

“What a load of shit!” He shouted, stepping quickly forward until he stood opposite his professors at her bedside, “You lot can’t be buying this! She’s a murderer, a villainous liar!”

Bellatrix straightened and stared at the boy uncertainly, looking like a deer in the headlights. Hermione joined her friend next to the bed, her stomach tightening nervously at her proximity to the Death Eater. She tried to relax when she felt Ron step closer behind her. She put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, both to comfort him and to steady herself. The three professors were only looking at Harry in poorly disguised pity.

“Well, there is only one way to know for sure…” Dumbledore looked at Snape, “Severus, if you would…?”

Hermione realized what was happening as Snape pulled his wand. He pointed it at the dark witch’s face and said, “Legilimens,”

Bellatrix threw her head back and her whole body seized up. She didn’t cry out but it was apparent she was experiencing a tremendous discomfort. Hermione wondered what it would feel like to be invaded so intimately, especially if she truly had no understanding of what was being done to her.

When Snape broke the spell the dark witch slumped back against the mattress, whimpering. Snape, for his part looked shocked, his wand arm hanging limp at his side as he stared at Bellatrix in bewilderment.

“Well?” Dumbledore asked.

Snape’s eyes remained on the witches still form as he spoke, “The Bellatrix Lestrange the world knows is an experienced Occlumens. I was met with no resistance. This is not the Bellatrix the world knows.”

* * *

 

Hermione had never endured such an infuriatingly unproductive day in class. Her sixth year was just beginning and now was not the time to get distracted. She hardly participated and she could barely pay attention when her mind was full of the events of that morning. How would it affect their cause? Surely Voldemort would come looking for his “best lieutenant”.

It was clear to her that Harry wasn’t fairing much better. He was less infuriatingly perfect in potions, a victory Hermione couldn’t even appreciate considering the circumstances that caused it. Ron was doing his best to be supportive; his way of showing support was staring sympathetically at his best friend with that trademark puppy dog look in his eyes.   As far as she knew, Harry and Ginny still hadn’t spoken since that morning.

She felt both relieved and disappointed when her last class of the day ended. She’d have time to think the situation over fully now, but she was left feeling dissatisfied with her day’s work.

“A word, Granger?” Slughorn stopped her before she could follow Harry and Ron out of the room.

“Yes, Professor?” She frowned at her friend’s backs as they disappeared out the door.

“Dumbledore wanted to see you about the…erm, Black situation,”

It took her a moment to remember that by Black, he meant Lestrange. Slughorn must have been Bellatrix’s professor, back when her surname was Black. She nodded and left the room hurriedly, interested to hear what the Headmaster had to say.

After the relatively short walk to his office, she found Dumbledore seated at his desk, Fawkes squawking at her when she entered. He looked up and smiled kindly at her over his half-moon glasses. “Miss Granger, do have a seat,”

“You wanted to see me about Bellatrix, sir?” she asked, taking a seat opposite him.

“Yes, Miss Lestrange’s arrival has come as quite a shock for all of us. Professor Snape, McGonagall and I have been deliberating all day on how we should proceed. On the one hand, Bellatrix was an incredibly gifted and dangerous Death Eater, and I am doubtful Voldemort will take her loss lightly. He will search for her, and just having her here is dangerous,” Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and sighed thoughtfully, “Now, on the other hand, we believe Bellatrix to be under the influence of a very powerful memory charm. She remembers only the basics; that she is a witch capable of magic, that she lives in a world surrounded by others who can perform magic. She doesn’t remember her biased upbringing, she is devoid of any pureblood brainwashing, and she has no idea who the Dark Lord is. I believe we can use this to our advantage,”

Hermione mirrored the headmaster, leaning back in her chair as well. Her mind raced as she tried to take in the information. “Are you saying you believe we could get Bellatrix to help us?”

“I do. And I’ll need your help convincing her to do so,” Dumbledore responded gravely.

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up, “Me? What would you need me to do?”

“Rebuild her mind into something better than it was before. Teach her, train her, gain her trust, and get her to believe in our cause. I believe you are the only one suitable to the task at hand. I wouldn’t ask if I believed there to be another option.” He added, appearing at least mildly apologetic.

Stunned, she took in the Headmaster’s words. It was a genius plan, but incredibly dangerous. If it worked, the benefits would be unimaginable, but if it failed…

“You believe her worth the risk? You believe her capable of becoming something…good?”

“I believe I second chances,”

“Does she really deserve one? With all due respect, Headmaster, she’s a murder. She’s insane.”

“Maybe she doesn’t, but this is an opportunity take one of Voldemort’s greatest strengths and turn it into one of ours. As for Miss Lestrange’s mental state, mental illness doesn’t make one evil. This world makes one evil. Her upbringing corrupted her, the Dark Lord turned her into a monster. The woman never stood a chance. Now she does. Will you help me, Hermione?”

* * *

 

Hermione shifted her stack of books to balance them on a hip and she raised a fist to gently rap on Bellatrix’s door. She could hardly hear her own knocks over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears. The room was situated at the top of one of Hogwarts’s towers in a rarely visited corner of the castle.

 _Bellatrix has gone from the most feared Death Eater in the world to a princess locked in an ivory tower,_ Hermione thought bemusedly, trying to steady her nerves.

“Come in,” A voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Hermione opened the door, enchanted to open for anyone but its sole inhabitant. Despite the fact that the woman was essentially living in a cell, she was set up nicely. The room was all stone, dark wood and silk green furnishings. To top it off a fireplace roared with emerald fire opposite a massive king sized bed. Hermione had yet to see the inside of the Slytherin common room but she imagined the décor was similar.

Bellatrix was seated in front of her vanity mirror, dressed in a silk black robe and pulling a brush through her unruly hair. Hermione counted at least ten candles upon entering and seeing the former Death Eater bathed in candlelight, doing something as mundane as running a brush through her hair had her heart hammering in her chest again. What was the proper way to act in a situation like this?

“Um,” Hermione stuttered, “Er, Dumbledore wanted me to work with you on…regaining some of your magical capabilities.”

Bellatrix glanced at her in the mirror but continued to yank the brush through her hair. She was tightly wound, visibly on edge. Hermione couldn’t blame her, after everything she’d been through. The woman was infamously impossible to predict so Hermione knew she ought to choose her words carefully.

“Yes, I’ve been informed. I hear you’re the brightest witch of your age, hm?” Bellatrix arched an eyebrow.

Hermione couldn’t tell if the witch was mocking her. She was finding it challenging to get an idea of Bellatrix’s personality without her memories.

“Well, yes,” Hermione replied. She walked to Bellatrix’s dresser and set the books she brought down with a  _thump ._ She almost missed the dark haired woman’s soft grunt of pain, and she turned around in time to see her snap the wooden brush on a particularly difficult knot.

“Oh here,” Hermione was by her side before she could think better of it. She helped the dark witch work the brush out of her hair, not missing the way she tensed up at Hermione’s proximity. “It helps if you start with your ends and work up to your roots,”

“Don’t baby me,” Bellatrix snapped, “I’m perfectly capable of-,”

“Breaking a brush? Further damaging your hair?” Hermione retorted. She drew her wand and cast  _reparo_ to fix the brush.

Bellatrix was momentarily distracted at the display of magic but quickly returned to her senses, “ _Further_ damaging-you little- my hair is perfectly fine!” She stood up suddenly, knocking her chair back.

Hermione jumped away, more shocked than she really should have been. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I don’t care how you meant it,” Bellatrix snarled, grabbing Hermione roughly by the collar of her shirt and slamming her against the stone wall, “Insult me again,” She breathed out, her breath washing over Hermione’s face.  _Spearmint,_ Hermione registered uselessly. This close, she could see every eyelash surrounding the endless pools of the inky darkness that made up her irises.

Typically in times of conflict Hermione’s brain naturally flew into problem solving mode but now she was currently unable to come up with any useful ideas.

“Well?” The crazed witch demanded, that spearmint-tinged breath puffing out in short, rapid succession, “Give me a reason I shouldn’t break your nose, Granger,”

Bellatrix’s hands twisted her shirt harder, the collar making it hard for Hermione to breath. The small motion caused her to notice that Bellatrix’s knuckles were bright red with painful, recent looking scabs. “Erm,” Hermione ventured, “because your hand is already injured? You’ll hurt yourself as much as you’ll hurt me,”

She knew, logically, that a broken nose would hurt a lot more than some cuts on a hand but she hoped the reason was strong enough to appeal to the woman pinning her to the wall. She also knew that she could easily draw her wand and knock Bellatrix on her ass, however, Dumbledore did stress the importance of building a relationship on the basis of trust, so first she would attempt to talk her down.

Bellatrix only continued to glower at her so she tried again.

“I can help you with that you know,” Hermione glanced at the witch’s hand again. There was a bit of blood seeping out of the scabs from how tightly her hands were curled around Hermione’s shirt. “That must hurt…I can heal you, Bellatrix,”

The use of her name seemed to finally snap Bellatrix out of her mood. She uncurled her fingers from Hermione’s shirt and stepped away unsteadily. Hermione sucked in a breath, both from relief and from finally being able to breathe unobstructed.

The raven haired woman stood in the center of the room now, staring down at her bleeding hand. Hermione wanted to leave, she  _really_ did, but Dumbledore gave her one task and if this was going to help them in the long run, she was nothing but a perfectionist. This was just another challenge for her to conquer.

She approached the other woman tentatively, the way you approach a deer in the woods, and gently took her injured hand. Bellatrix let her, moving her eyes back to Hermione’s face.

Hermione drew her wand once again and pointed it at Bellatrix’s hand. Before she cast the spell, she glanced up and met her eyes, “First it’s going to feel very warm and then cold, but then you’ll feel better, alright?”

The woman only studied her silently, until Hermione looked back at her hand.

“Episkey,” She whispered, and the two of them watched as the skin turned from the ugly red and yellow, to pink and back to flawless ivory. After it was done, Bellatrix yanked her hand out of Hermione’s and turned away, stalking over to the window.

Hermione hadn’t accomplished at all what she came for, but she felt that teaching Bellatrix anything at all was going to be a long and complicated process. She’d made enough progress for one night.

She turned and made her way to the door. Pausing at the dresser, she glanced back at the other witch standing motionless at the window.

“I’ll leave these here for you, in case you want to read up on your own. I’ll be back in a couple days to go over it with you,”

Bellatrix showed no sign that she heard what she’d said, so Hermione just sighed and left her to brood.

 _That is no princess locked in an ivory tower,_ she found herself thinking on her way back to the common room.

_That is a dragon with clipped wings._


	2. Chapter 2

Harry and Ron freaked out when they heard about Hermione’s new after school activity. She was fairly sure Harry stormed off to confront Dumbledore himself about it. Right now they couldn’t see reason, Harry blinded by his hatred for Bellatrix, Ron by his concern for Hermione’s safety. They would come around though, she was sure of it. They would see how much this could help their cause.

A week passed and neither of them were any more at ease with it. She tried to give them time to get more comfortable with it but the time came when she had to return to Bellatrix’s room for another lesson. An actual lesson this time. Harry and Ron insisted on coming with her, but she knew she was more likely to gain Bellatrix’s trust if she didn’t bring bodyguards. They came to a compromise that the two boys would wait outside for her but absolutely not come in.

Hermione knocked and this time got a clipped, “Yes,” from the other side. Her friends were frowning, standing much too close. She shooed them away and waited for them to take a few steps back before opening the door and shooting them an eye-roll before going inside.

This time, Bellatrix was reclining on the couch in front of the fireplace, her feet up on the coffee table and one of the books Hermione had left her propped up on her stomach. Hermione had to bite back a laugh when she saw the woman was wearing a school uniform, minus a tie.

“I’m pleased to see you’ve been reading,” Hermione began.

Bellatrix didn’t bother to look up when she responded, “I feel useless, like a bloody newborn. I’m inclined to get rid of that feeling the fastest I can,”

“That’s understandable,” Hermione sat in the armchair next to the couch, tucking her hands under her thighs, “Do you mind if I quiz you?”

Bellatrix finally looked up at her and Hermione’s heart stuttered when those eyes met hers again. The light from the green was swallowed up in the utter blackness staring back at her. Bellatrix stared blankly at her and Hermione wondered apprehensively what mood she would be dealing with tonight.

“Fine,” The former Death Eater agreed.

A small smile played at Hermione’s lips, appreciative of her slight agreeability. She fumbled around in her schoolbag until she produced the journal she’d written out some questions in. She opened the notebook but before she could speak the woman interrupted.

“Not so fast, girlie. I’ll answer your questions only if you some of mine,”

Hermione sighed, “I’ll answer what I can to the best of my ability,”

“Fine,” Bellatrix replied haughtily, “Well? Go on,”

She went on to ask her some basic first year test questions, material that would have been in the books she’d left behind. Hermione was impressed to find that the witch knew the answer to every question she had for her.

“Did you read all of them?” Hermione asked, referring to the three schoolbooks she’d provided.

“I don’t have piss all else to do,” Bellatrix grumbled.

“Those books are humungous,” Hermione said incredulously, “Students take an entire year to study them,”

Hermione of course, had gone through most of the course material the summer before her first year. But this was the first time she’d come across someone with the same mental discipline, and it just happened to be an infamous murderer.

“Your turn,” Bellatrix said, taking her feet off the coffee table to sit on the edge of the couch, leering at the Gryffindor. “I want you to tell me what I was like,”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, folding her hands on top of her notebook, “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell you that,”

A dark expression passed over the witch’s face and Hermione’s palms began to sweat, praying she wouldn’t have to endure another mood swing.

“I already know I wasn’t a good guy so just tell me, girl,” she hissed.

“How do you know you weren’t good?” she asked, out of curiosity and as an attempt to avoid answering.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, seeing right through her deflection but decided to indulge her anyway. She yanked up the sleeve of her button up, revealing the Dark Mark. “This was obviously created by dark magic. Then there’s the matter of my…well, my teeth and my hair, as you so kindly pointed out. I assume I spent some amount of time locked up?”

The woman actually looked embarrassed when she mentioned her looks, avoiding Hermione’s gaze. It made Hermione consider telling her the truth; the woman was so lost, so alone inside her head with no memories to pull from. She couldn’t imagine that kind of emptiness.

“If you want the details, you’ll have to get them from Dumbledore,”

Bellatrix’s hands curled into fists and her lips pressed together in irritation.

“However,” Hermione continued, before the witch could lose it on her again, “I’ll tell you this much. You were born Bellatrix Black, to a widely known pure-blood family. You have two-“

“What do you mean by pure-blood?” Bellatrix interrupted, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Hermione’s brain came to an abrupt halt. For several moments all she could do was gape.

“What?” Bellatrix barked, snapping Hermione out of her shock.

“It’s just that you were very…prejudiced before. A pure-blood is someone born with no muggle blood, someone who has no muggles in their family.”

“I see. Are you a pure-blood, then?”        

“No. My parents are muggles,” Hermione said, paying close attention to Bellatrix’s reaction.

She gave nothing away, “Oh. So I would not have liked you before?”

Hermione shook her head, “You hated me and all people like me,” she hesitated, “Do you like me now?”

Not that she cared or anything.

Bellatrix mulled it over, “I suppose you’re somewhat bearable to be around,”

“Well, I feel the s-”

“Although, it’s not like I have much to compare it to,” Bellatrix deadpanned.

“Right,” Hermione wasn’t sure what else she expected. It was better than the outright blind hatred Bellatrix would have had for her with memories of her upbringing.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Hermione watching Bellatrix and Bellatrix watching the flames, trying to understand who she was before.

“It doesn’t matter who you were before,” Hermione’s voice was soft, compelling, “You have a chance to start over, become someone better,”

“How do I know that’s even what I want?”

“You’ll just have to decide for yourself, I suppose,” She knew it was more than likely the witch would go back to her former master, but Hermione had to have hope that this all meant something, that the woman would choose a better life. She would just have to dig to find some kind of light inside her.

“Tell me more,” Bellatrix finally looked at her, “About who I was. I need to know,”

“You had two sisters. You grew up to work for a very evil man, a mass murderer, and you became one yourself; a killer. You tortured people, killed in his name. When he fell, you did go to prison, spent years in a horrible place called Azkaban. You should be grateful you don’t remember what happened to you there,”

Bellatrix frowned at her but didn’t argue, “Tell me about my sisters,”

Surprised that this was what the woman wanted to know more about, Hermione obliged, “I don’t know much about them. I know that you’re the eldest, that your youngest sister Narcissa has a son that goes to this school. Harry told me that your other sister, Andromeda, married a muggle-born and was disowned by your family,”

Bellatrix sat back to process this, “You were all calling me Lestrange before. Did I marry?”

“Yes. I’m afraid there’s not much I know about that.”

The dark witch only nodded, accepting this, “I’d like to go by Black again,”

Hermione nodded, “I’ll tell Dumbledore,”

Bellatrix almost looked grateful. It was then Hermione reveled in how long they’d been conversing in such a civil manner.

“You know,” she commented, “keep this civility up and you may get your wand back soon,”

Bellatrix’s black eyes actually _lit up_ at that, Hermione marveled.

“Only for supervised lessons from me, of course,” She added hurriedly and Bellatrix’s shoulders sagged.

“You’re a bit of a buzzkill, has anyone ever told you that?” the witch grumbled.

“Once or twice,” she said, trying not to get offended, “Would you like me to bring you more books? I can stop by in the morning,”

“…Yes” Bellatrix responded, pouting now. Ever the petulant child.

Satisfied with their progress and deciding not to push her luck, Hermione stood. “I’ll stop by before classes tomorrow with some more advanced material for you. Have a good night, Bellatrix,”

Bellatrix only picked her book back up and resumed her previous position, giving Hermione no response.

She left her like that, heading to the door. She almost yelped in surprise when she opened it to find Harry and Ron standing an inch away from her. The door clicking shut behind her, she glared at them.

“Were you two eavesdropping?”

“It was so quiet in there we were worried she’d killed you,” Ron said, looking her over as if he expected to find wounds.

“Would it have made you feel better to hear yelling?”

“No…” Harry admitted sheepishly, “I suppose it’s just difficult to imagine you having a normal conversation with that woman,”

“I wouldn’t call the conversation normal,” Hermione amended, “But she is very different than how we knew her.”

Harry sighed, still struggling to accept that Bellatrix wasn’t a threat, “Well, anyway, back to the dorms then?”

“You two go, I have one more stop to make.”

* * *

Hermione went back to the ivory tower, as she’d deemed it in her mind, first thing the next morning. She didn’t get a response when she knocked, so she cautiously cracked the door open. Bellatrix was sleeping still so Hermione let herself in.

She tentatively approached the sleeping dragon’s bed and set the new books and a paper bag on the end table. She checked to make sure the note that read _trust me_ was visible and turned to go. A soft noise, like a moan, made her turn back.

Bellatrix had rolled onto her back, one arm thrown carelessly above her head. The cool morning light filtered through the window and fell on her face, making her skin glow. Bellatrix didn’t look like an angel, she looked like moonlight and midnight condensed down into a single being. How could someone who had destroyed so many lives, someone who had spent so many years in darkness, look like that? Like she was made from the heavens.

Hermione shook her head, feeling like she was fighting to come out from under a spell. She had no business thinking of a woman, _that_ woman in such a way. She left the room in a hurry, before her mind could spout any more nonsense. 

Even as she went down the stairs to the main hall for breakfast, her mind remained at the top of the ivory tower. Her friends were all there already, discussing the upcoming Quidditch tryouts. She smiled faintly in greeting and started putting her plate together. Before she had a chance to start eating she noticed Dumbledore standing at his podium.

A hush fell over the room as the others noticed him, everyone waiting for the announcement with bated breath.

“There has been a…development here at Hogwarts that I believe you all have the right to know of,” he began, his eyes meeting hers for the barest of moments. She tensed up, knowing what was coming.

“Bellatrix Lestrange is here,” before he could continue, there was an uprising of outraged voices, “Attention!” He roared, and the room grudgingly fell silent again, “Bellatrix is no longer any threat to us. She has fallen victim to an incredibly strong memory charm. The _former_ Death Eater has no memory of her wrongdoings. No memory at all, in fact.”

A wave of heated conversation broke out over the crowd again and this time Dumbledore gave them a moment to discuss. Someone from Ravenclaw’s table called out, “That doesn’t change what she’s done!” and someone else added, “She still deserves to pay for her crimes!” That one came from Gryffindor.

“Bellatrix may still prove to be an asset to us, should we grant her a second chance. That is exactly what we are doing, granting a second chance to someone who has no idea she’s ever done anything wrong,” his voice rang out authoritatively, “The more time she spends here, the more likely it is that you may see her around. If this happens, I want you to ignore her.”

The silence this time was more of a shocked outrage.

“That will be all,” Dumbledore finished.

The silence broke when Neville Longbottom stood, his lips pressed together in a stern line and his eyes bright with unshed tears, and fled from the dining hall. Hermione saw the barest hint of uncertainty in Dumbledore’s eyes before he turned away, and her own stomach plummeted when she thought of how Neville must be feeling. Everyone was yelling now, whether it was at Dumbledore or at each other, Hermione didn’t know. It was all a blur now. She didn’t know what was right and what was wrong anymore. When she closed her eyes she saw the raven hair and the moonlit skin of a murderer, and when she opened them she saw Harry staring at his hands and knew he was thinking of Sirius. Her ears ringing, she stood up and left the dining hall after Neville, before anyone could see the tears.

She paced in the hallway, arms crossed over her chest as she took deep breaths to steady herself. The tears just wouldn’t stop flowing, no matter what she did. A few moments later, she was surprised to see it was Harry who came after her. His shoulders tense, she could tell instantly he was struggling with the news.

She froze when she saw him. Ignoring his tense posture, she walked up to him and threw her arms around his shoulders, “I’m sorry, Harry,”

“Hermione…” he put his arms on her waist and gently detached himself from her, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with this. Knowing you go to her room and spend time alone with her is hard enough, but seeing her walk the halls freely? How am I supposed to deal with that?”

“I don’t know,” she choked out, wiping her face with a sleeve, “But Harry, try to understand. It’s not her. It’s not the same woman who killed Sirius,”

Harry shook his head, “You can’t really believe a woman like that is capable of change. Not to mention everyone’s parents already think the schools no longer safe, now we’re housing a Death Eater? Dumbledore’s reputation is on the line here!”

“Harry, when has Dumbledore ever been wrong? You should trust his judgement more than anyone,”

Harry ran a hand through his hair so it stood up almost comically on his head, “I can’t do it, not when it comes to her. Every time I look at her I remember his death. I just don’t think I can accept this Hermione, and I don’t think you should either,”

Before Hermione could respond, the door creaked open again and Dumbledore himself stepped out, “Ah, there you are, Hermione. May I have a word with you in my office?”

Hermione sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve, stepping away from Harry, “Of course, sir,”

Before they turned to leave Harry and Dumbledore shared a look; Harry staring at him with a sort of hurt confusion and the Headmaster a blank slate, impossible to read. The walk to his office was uncomfortably quiet, her mind still racing to understand if what they were doing was truly right.

“Please sit,” he said, and they resumed their positions from when they spoke of Bellatrix for the first time, “Have you made any progress with our guest?”

“I believe so. She’s been somewhat agreeable. She’s still a bit disturbed but she’s not evil.”

“Yes, well unfortunately we don’t yet understand all the specifics of how one’s mind is affected under extreme memory loss, how much of the individual’s true self remains. Do you think there’s any possibility she might support our cause? Turn against the Dark Lord? After this morning’s announcement I’ll have the ministry breathing down my neck and I need to know if there’s a chance at her rehabilitation if I am to fight to keep her here,”

“I’m not sure, I’ve only met with her twice,”

“Guess, to the best of your ability. I trust your instincts, Hermione,”

Hermione reflected on the short time she’d spent with the witch, trying to filter out all other factors from her consideration. The woman was unstable, yes, but she didn’t even remember what a pure-blood was. When told about her past, she wanted to hear about her sisters more than her dark master. She showed a willingness to learn, a desire to understand. “Yes,” Hermione said, “yes, I believe Bellatrix stands a chance at redemption,”

“Very well,” Dumbledore unlocked a drawer at the bottom of his desk and produced a wand, “This belongs to Miss Lestrange. I trust you to know when to return it to her,”

Hermione took the curved piece of wood, remembering the last time she saw it at the ministry and how much everything had changed since then. She nodded solemnly and stood to go.

Before she reached the door she froze, remembering something Bellatrix said, “Sir? Bellatrix would like to reclaim the name Black,”

Dumbledore smiled, as if this were good news, “Noted, Miss Granger. Thank you,”

* * *

Another week passed and things were still relatively tense between Hermione and her friends. Harry won Slughorn’s Felix Felicis and Hermione helped Ron through his Quidditch try out. The three went to the Three Broomsticks which she’d thought was to celebrate their recent success but when Harry was approached by Slughorn her and Ron realized that Dumbledore was working more than the Bellatrix situation.

Harry’s success in getting an invite to the dinner party was dampened when Slughorn asked Hermione to bring Bellatrix Black, a former member of the Slug Club, along with her. Hermione felt it was two victories for Dumbledore’s plans and well worth it, no matter how uncomfortable that dinner party would be for her.

After the incident with Katie Bell on their way back, Hermione wanted nothing more than to get into bed and call it an early night, but she also wanted to see how Bellatrix would react to the chance to get out of her room.

She decided not to tell Harry and Ron where she was going this time, saying she’d be in the library. She left Bellatrix’s wand hidden under her bed, not yet trusting that she wouldn’t try to turn on her or leave the castle with it.

Hermione announced herself this time by saying, “Bellatrix, I have some good news for you!”

To which Bellatrix immediately shouted, “Come in then!”

When she opened the door she jumped when she found the raven haired witch standing directly behind it.

“Well? Is it my wand?” Bellatrix asked, almost eagerly, forgetting the concept of personal space yet again.

“Not yet,” Hermione said. Bellatrix glared at her and spun on a heel to stalk away.

When she swung around, her long hair hit Hermione in the face, and that’s when she noticed the gift she’d left her worked.

“Bellatrix! You liked the potions?”

The night that Hermione noticed the witch feeling self-conscious about her appearance, she went to ask Snape a favor. Initially he refused but when she told him that it would help with a task given to her by Dumbledore he begrudgingly obliged. Two simple potions; one for teeth cleaning and one to rejuvenate damaged hair.

“No,” Bellatrix quipped, “The potions themselves were disgusting, it’d have been nice if you included a warning on that in your little note,”

“Did you like…their effects?” Hermione pressed, following Bellatrix to where she was glaring out her window.

“I think it was a bit presumptuous of you to assume I didn’t like how I look,” Bellatrix continued to avoid looking at her.

“Bellatrix…” Hermione touched her elbow and the other woman jerked away from the contact, only to grab ahold of Hermione’s shirt and push her against the wall. Again.

“Yes,” She snarled, directly into Hermione’s face. She would have been scared about being manhandled all over again, but Bellatrix was bearing her now perfect teeth at her and her hair was tumbling wild and dark over her shoulders and well…she was beautiful. Feral and untamed and breathtaking. Hermione was speechless, blinking up at her.

Bellatrix was still glaring at her but Hermione couldn’t even remember what she’d done to piss her off this time. When the older witch realized she was doing nothing to intimidate the Gryffindor, she growled irritably and released her.

“You’re no fun,” She pouted petulantly, “What’s the point of tossing you around if you only stare up at me like a dumbstruck idiot?”

Hermione only stared at her, completely unequipped to keep up with the mood swings.

Bellatrix snapped her fingers in Hermione’s face, “Well, what’s the news?”

“Oh! Right, Slughorn, one of the professors here, would like you to accompany me to one of his dinner parties,”

Bellatrix’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose, “You mean I get to get out of this room?”

“Yes,” Hermione beamed.

Bellatrix’s lips started to quirk up into a smile but it seemed she decided to sneer instead, “Well it’s about time. I’m about to lose my mind in here. When is it?”

“Tomorrow night,” Hermione said brightly, knowing Bellatrix was pleased despite her attempt to conceal it.

“Well good.” Bellatrix folded her arms and watched her under that heavy-lidded gaze.

“You’re welcome,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Will that be all?” Bellatrix asked snidely.

“Uh, actually, I wanted to see how you were progressing on your reading,”

Bellatrix actually cooperated with her the rest of the night, clearly put in a good mood about getting out of her room soon. Again, she aced all of the questions the sixth year compiled for her, and she had no doubt once the witch had her wand back she’d be a quick learner in that area too. Bellatrix may never be back to her former power but she would certainly come damn close.

* * *

It felt like no time had passed when she arrived at Bellatrix’s door the following night. After over two weeks locked in that room, the woman was more than eager to get out. The second Hermione opened the door she came rushing out, giggling like a madwoman and skipping down the stairs.

“Bellatrix, stop that!” Hermione yelled. Bellatrix skidded to a halt and screeched when the staircase began to move, allowing Hermione to catch up.

“Don’t run off like that!” Hermione scolded, “What are you, six?”

Bellatrix was clinging desperately to the railing, wobbling in her heeled boots, “What the bloody hell is happening!”

Hermione wanted to laugh but Bellatrix moved one hand away from the railing to cling _way_ too hard to her shoulder and the comedy of the situation died with the pain.

“Ouch. Calm down, the staircases just shift sometimes. It’s not a big deal,”

When the witch realized her death wasn’t imminent she loosened her grip on Hermione’s shoulder until it was only resting lightly there for balance. While they waited for the stairs to stop moving, Hermione took in Bellatrix’s outfit. She was wearing the boots she was found in two weeks ago, a black skirt and a black cardigan over a white button up. The button up wasn’t buttoned up nearly high enough to be school appropriate, but seeing what Bellatrix was working with…

Hermione blushed, curbing that train of thought.

The staircase ceased and they continued on their way in silence. Bellatrix almost seemed nervous, but she evidently wasn’t the type to display her true emotions on her sleeve for all to see. She slowly overcame those nerves as they walked; Hermione watched as her shoulders straightened, her chin lifted and her strides lengthened until she was back to her typical untouchable outward appearance. When they walked into Slughorn’s room and everyone turned to stare, Bellatrix appeared unaffected.

“Are we late?” Hermione asked anxiously.

“Miss Black!” Slughorn exclaimed, rushing at the pair, “How wonderful it is to see you again, you haven’t aged a bit! Do come in, have a seat,”

Hermione wasn’t sure she’d ever seen the professor so enthusiastic. She made eye contact with Harry, already seated, the two sharing a disturbed look. Slughorn ushered them in, Hermione sitting next to her best friend and Bellatrix sitting on her left. Slughorn poured only Bellatrix a glass of wine, which Hermione supposed was fair with her age and all.

“We were just talking about our families back home,” Slughorn continued once he was seated again, “What does your family do in the muggle world, Granger?”

“My parents are dentists,” Hermione answered, pretending not to notice when everyone turned to look at her, “They tend to people’s teeth,”

Bellatrix was tilting her head curiously at her, the wine glass frozen halfway to her lips.

“Fascinating,” Slughorn commented. “And is that considered a dangerous profession?”

Hermione felt Slughorn wasn’t being sincere so she attempted to pique people’s interest with a story about the time her father needed stitches after getting bitten by a patient. They still didn’t seem to care. Bellatrix had completely stopped listening, and Hermione could hear her swishing the wine around in her mouth as if she was deciding whether or not she liked it. Harry at least, was smiling in amusement. She was pleased to see her friend smiling even with the object of his troubles sitting so close.

She then heard Bellatrix gulp loudly at the same time she looked up to see Cormac licking his pinky finger seductively at her. She heard a gagging noise next to her and looked to see Bellatrix sticking her tongue out at him.

“Bellatrix,” Hermione hissed. Cormac looked uneasy and went back to eating his food like a normal person and Bellatrix’s tongue went back in her mouth like nothing happened.

“What?” She asked innocently.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and tried to focus on her own food. Ginny arrived just then, and the atmosphere became even more awkward when Harry nearly knocked his chair over by standing up so fast.

Before she could point out to Harry that Ginny looked like she’d been crying, Bellatrix kicked her leg.

“What?” Hermione whispered, annoyed.

“Who’s that?”

“My friend. Ron’s sister,”

“Who’s Ron?” Bellatrix pestered. Hermione noticed her wine glass was empty.

“My other friend, now shush,”

Ginny sat on Bellatrix’s other side, and the dark haired witch turned to ogle her.

“Um, hello,” Ginny said nervously.

“Ginny, this is Bellatrix as I’m sure you’ve deduced,” Hermione introduced them, “She’s mostly harmless,”

“Bugger off,” Bellatrix complained, pouring herself more wine.

Ginny leaned forward to look at Harry and they said their hellos while Hermione stared at her guest in irritated bewilderment. Bellatrix ignored her now, gulping down more wine. Hermione wanted to tell her to slow down but the last thing she needed was a public outburst from the witch.

By the time the dinner ended, Bellatrix had consumed nearly the entire bottle of wine on her own and Hermione had to help her stand.

“I’ll see you later, ‘Mione” Harry said, eyeing the drunk witch wearily, “I’m going to hang back and talk to Slughorn,”

Hermione nodded and began to guide her companion out of the room.

“Do come by and visit sometime, Miss Black!” Slughorn called after them. Bellatrix only waved a hand dismissively, almost hitting Hermione in the face.

“Are you going to be able to make it back up a moving staircase?” Hermione sighed.

“I’ll damn well do what I want,” Bellatrix mumbled nonsensically.

“Alright…”

Once they reached the aforementioned staircase however, Bellatrix ceased walking immediately and stared broodingly up at it. “How am I to step on it when it’s already wobbling?” she demanded, outraged.

“It’s not moving, you’ve just had too much to drink,”

“What’s that got to do with the staircase?” Bellatrix yelled, looking at Hermione like she had two heads.

“Bellatrix,” Hermione tried to reason, “If you can get up this staircase with me, I’ll let you use the wand for our next session,”

Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed with sudden, terrifying determination. She locked Hermione’s arm in another vice grip and placed the other on the railing and they began the long and treacherous hike. Bellatrix only stumbled three times to her credit, and finally Hermione got her back inside that room. Bellatrix went straight to the bed and sat down with a sigh, staring at her lap. The Gryffindor, oblivious to her change of temperament, located a pitcher of water and a glass left by a house elf and went to pour Bellatrix a glass.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Bellatrix whispered, when Hermione brought the glass over.

“Take this,” Hermione handed her the glass, “You’ve just had alcohol, I’m sorry I forgot you wouldn’t know of its effects. It makes your head spin and impairs your judgement, which is why it was so hard for you to walk-”

“Not the _wine,_ you bloody fool. I don’t know what’s _wrong with me!”_ Bellatrix was shouting now, and she stood so she was very close to the younger girl.

“I don’t know who I am, I don’t know what I am, where I am, where I’m from, what I want, WHERE I’M GOING, WHAT I’M DOING, I DON’T KNOW A FUCKING THING!” Bellatrix screamed, throwing her glass so it flew right by Hermione’s head and shattered against the wall. Hermione cried out in shock, stumbling away from the witch.

“GET OUT!” Bellatrix continued to shriek, grabbing the lamp from the bedside and smashing it on the ground. Hermione ran to the door and flung it open. “OUT!” the witch screamed, as Hermione slammed the door shut behind her.

She slid down against the wall opposite the door, trembling violently and sobbing. She hugged her knees to her chest, just listening to Bellatrix scream and scream. It was all so sudden, so out of nowhere and now she was blaming herself. Of all the imbecilic mistakes-letting a woman get drunk off a substance she didn’t understand when she was unstable enough as it was.

Hermione just sat there and tried to calm down. She found she was unable to stop crying until the witch’s screams from the other side of the door started to quiet down. She stopped shaking when the room fell completely silent and then she only sat and watched the door for at least another half an hour. Only when it was well past the time she should be in bed did she shakily get to her feet.

“Lumos,” She whispered hoarsely, and left the room behind. She thankfully made it back to her room without getting caught by any professors. She climbed into bed for a sleepless night, her mind staying with the broken witch several floors above her.


	3. Chapter 3

It was both Hermione’s Gryffindor bravery and stubbornness that had her returning three nights later. She flung the door open without announcing herself and glared at the witch sitting on the bed, reading. As soon as she looked up Hermione tossed her wand to her.

“Get up and follow me,” Hermione snapped.

Bellatrix obeyed wordlessly, following Hermione into the hall, down the stairs and through the winding corridors. Hermione walked at such a brisk pace that when she stopped Bellatrix stumbled to avoid running into her back. Hermione was only staring at the blank wall in front of them, waiting.

Bellatrix sighed in trepidation, “What are we doing?”

“Just wait,” came the young witch’s reply.

Before their eyes the wall began to change. Dust began to fall with the sound of stone grinding against stone, until a door appeared, towering above them. Hermione stepped forward and pushed it open, Bellatrix following behind without hesitation.

“Welcome to the Room of Requirement,”

For her part, Bellatrix was doing her best not to look constantly surprised by the world around her. She was only twirling her wand carelessly between her fingers, boots clicking on the stone as she explored the room. It looked similar to the way it had when they’d used it for training Dumbledore’s Army; roaring fireplace on the opposite side from the door, wooden opponents holding wands, wide open spaces for dueling practice.

Bellatrix stopped in front of the fireplace and turned to face Hermione. “What are we doing here?”

Hermione drew her own wand, “I think we both have some…aggression to work through. I trust you’ve read how to duel?”

Bellatrix shifted uncertainly, “I…yes I’ve _read_ how to duel but-,”

“Wand at the ready then, Bella,” Hermione cut in, smirking.

Bellatrix frowned, stuck up her chin and raised her wand, looking remarkably like she had in the ministry. Hermione didn’t let the show of confidence fool her.

“Expelliarmus!” Hermione fired off.

The witch’s eyes widened a fraction and she threw up a defense spell. Still, the force of Hermione’s spell hit it hard enough to knock Bellatrix back a few inches. Before she could regain her footing Hermione hit her with the disarming spell again and again Bellatrix blocked it. The third _expelliarmus_ was wordless and stronger than its predecessors, finally disarming the older witch. Hermione snatched the wand out of the air and immediately tossed it back.

Bellatrix’s cheeks were reddening in shame and anger. The moment her fingers wrapped around her wand she hurled out _flipendo_. Hermione scoffed and effortlessly blocked it. She allowed her dueling partner to fire again and again, easily blocking every second and third year spell thrown her way.

“Damn you!” Bellatrix howled.

Hermione took the opportunity to disarm her again. The older witch gave a frustrated yell and the Gryffindor only tossed the wand back once more.

“Again,” she commanded.

Bellatrix was furious now and it showed in the force of her spells. She possessed an enormous amount of talent, far past the skill set of an average student at her level of education. The raw power and ferocity of her former abilities remained, she was only unable to tap into it, harness it.

With every spell the irate witch stepped closer. Hermione’s defenses were impeccable and every spell she cast aside only made her opponent grow in anger. The jinx’s coming her way were powerful but sloppy. Bellatrix was close enough now for Hermione to see the sheen of sweat on her forehead and then suddenly the witch tossed her wand aside and simply _ran_ at Hermione.

Thrown off, Hermione didn’t react until it was too late and Bellatrix tackled her to the ground. Hermione cried out when her head hit the stone a bit too hard for her liking. She tried to point her wand at the witch but Bellatrix only grabbed both her wrists and pinned them above her head.

Hermione looked nervously up at the face staring down at her, expecting to find Bellatrix’s eyes clouded over the way they do during her episodes. Instead she found the witch grinning triumphantly.

“I win,” Bellatrix said.

Hermione sputtered indignantly, “What-no, that not how dueling works!”

“Not how dueling works,” Bellatrix mocked, “don’t be a sore loser,”

“You’re the one who had to resort to tackling me! I did not lose!”

“Maybe, but all that matters is who came out _on top,_ ” Bellatrix smirked suggestively.

Only Bellatrix Black could make a sentence sound both mocking and sexual. Hermione could feel a flush creeping up her neck and despite her efforts to keep it at bay, she knew her face was bright red when Bellatrix’s smirk turned into a grin.

“Bella, get off,” Hermione complained, trying to curb whatever comment the witch was about to make.

Bellatrix only quirked an eyebrow, “Bella? That’s new,”

Bellatrix’s hips shifted as she lowed herself further on top of Hermione, as if she were making herself comfortable.

The heat on Hermione’s face was only getting more unbearable. This close and with the light from the fireplace dancing across Bellatrix’s face, she noticed for the first time the faintest tinge of brown in her eyes. They reminded her of wood burning in a fire, oak eaten away at by flames.

Black, silky hair smelling of the earth after it rains fell over the witch’s shoulders to frame Hermione’s face and blocked the rest of the world out. The smile had fallen off of Bella’s face and her eyelids lowered, staring at the witch beneath long eyelashes.

“Do you not like it?” Hermione whispered.

“I like it plenty,” Bellatrix murmured back.

“Bella…”

Hermione became hyperaware of all the parts Bellatrix was pressing against her. Her thighs were fitted snugly on either side of Hermione’s hips and she felt only fire from the waist down. The woman’s breasts were pressing tightly against her own and if she were to glance down she was sure to get quite the view. Bella’s fingers were wrapped tightly around her wrists and she was sure the witch could feel her thundering pulse. The only sound in the room was the cracking fireplace and the breath’s they shared.

“Yes?” Bellatrix hissed. She tilted her head so that the tip of her flawless nose rubbed against Hermione’s own.

The young witch sucked in a sharp breath.

“Get off,” Hermione said. 

Dark brows pulled together above those smoldering eyes, “Come again?”

“Get. Off.”

Her eyes narrowed and full lips twisted into a sneer. Bellatrix pushed roughly off of her, practically crushing Hermione’s wrists in the process.

“A know it all _and_ a bloody prude,” Bellatrix spat. The words stung but before Hermione could come up with a response Bellatrix had picked up her wand and stormed out of the room.

* * *

After that incident Hermione managed to avoid Bellatrix for weeks to come. Never one to abandon her duties she continued to drop off more books and study outlines early in the morning, safe in the knowledge that Bella was a late and heavy sleeper. Not once did she allow herself another moment to admire the woman as she slept.

She threw herself back into her own studies. She had no shortage of homework to do, exams to prepare for and prefect duties to carry out. Harry and Ron insisted she was overdoing it, that spending every night in the library was “unhealthy” and that she was “straining herself”. Hermione’s response was only to drag them along with her as often as she could. Typically it was a no-go. Ron spent most of his free time with that dreadful Lavender and Harry spent his in meetings with Dumbledore.

Hermione was slowly but surely working through her embarrassment at being called a prude. She was also struggling to work through why it was that Bellatrix was putting the moves on her in the first place. What else could that have been?

The only excuse she could come up with was that the witch was merely deranged and confused. Bellatrix wouldn’t understand how utterly wrong what she’d done was.

 _And it was so, so wrong,_ Hermione told herself. Bellatrix was not only much older than her, but she wasn’t anywhere close to being in her right mind. Despite the age difference, it would really be Hermione taking advantage. The woman had no memory, no sense of right or wrong and Hermione was in a position of power over her. She’s her mentor, her tutor, her main source of communication and interaction.

To top it all off, it wasn’t like Hermione even felt that way about the former Death Eater _anyway._

One morning weeks after the incident, Hermione was lugging a few more fourth year books up the stairs when she saw a dark shape exiting the witch’s room. She froze halfway up the staircase until the figure stepped into the light.

_Draco._

“What were you doing in there?” Hermione asked.

Draco froze like a deer in headlights at the sound of her voice. When his eyes found hers and he realized who was speaking to him, his posture relaxed and he stuck his chin up arrogantly.

 _He reminds me a bit of Bella when he does that,_ Hermione thought.

“She’s my aunt, Granger. If you ask me I have more of a right to be here than anyone,”

“Dumbledore put me in charge of her,” Hermione said, continuing up the stairs until she was face to face with the boy, “If you ask _me,_ I have a right to know what you’re doing here,”

“You really don’t,” Draco said, pushing past her.

She glared at his back, deciding on mentioning the incident to Dumbledore later. When he was out of sight, she went into the room.

Bellatrix was fiddling with something inside her dresser and whipped around when she heard someone enter. Hermione froze in the doorway, hands tightening on the books in her arms. The tension in the room was palpable and Bellatrix only stared, back straight and chin up while she waited for Hermione to speak.

“So…what was Draco doing here?”

Bellatrix sneered, much more attractively than Draco had, “He’s my nephew, what are _you_ doing here?”

Hermione sighed. Of course the woman gave nearly the same response as her nephew. That family was really all the same, with or without memories.

“You know why I’m here,” she said, stepping all the way into the room and placing the books on the bedside table.

She straightened and looked back at Bella, who hadn’t moved an inch since she’d arrived. She was obviously not in the mood for a conversation so with a sigh Hermione turned to leave.

“Granger,” Bellatrix’s voice stopped her when her hand touched the door handle, “Can you…would you be able to come back tonight?”

Hermione turned to squint wearily at Bellatrix, “Why should I?”

Bellatrix shifted, visibly struggling with the pride that was in her muscle memory, in her _blood,_ and with the person she was becoming; a person who could be humble, who could ask something of others.

“I’ve been in here for weeks,” was all she managed to choke out.

Hermione softened, knowing it must be hard for someone in her state to be trapped with nothing but textbooks to occupy herself. Hermione could pull off such a thing without losing it, but Bellatrix had an untamed quality to her. Hermione wondered if Bellatrix could still feel any residual effects from Azkaban even without her memory. Was something inside of her still frightened of being locked away, forgotten?

Hermione nodded at her, and turned to leave back into her regular, day to day life. She was back on her game in all of her classes, quite proud of her ability to adjust to all of the new responsibilities on her plate. She was prefect this year, juggling that along with the new course load that came with being a sixth year, studying for NEWTS and rehabilitating the world’s most infamous Death Eater.

Now that she’d adjusted to the responsibility, she found renewed motivation in the wake of these challenges. The moment she left Bellatrix’s room she focused back on her schoolwork. Classes went smoothly and she met up with Luna afterword’s to go to the latest Quidditch game. Although she was terrible at the game herself, she had to admit it was fun to watch most of her closest friends play.

The only thing that dampened her spirits was Lavender screeching next to them the entire game. She screamed every time Ron moved an inch on his broom, and the noise was so infuriating Hermione was tempted to leave the game early.

She managed to stick it out by holding on to her love and devotion to her friends despite one of those friends having horrendous taste in women.

“Are you coming to the after party?” Luna asked her when everyone stood to leave.

“I have something else to take care of, actually,” Hermione said. She almost preferred the idea of Bellatrix’s company to having to watch Ron and Lavender snog all night.

“Oh, I see. You’re going to see Bellatrix, then?” Luna said.

“What gave me away?” Hermione asked, genuinely curious.

“Well,” Luna began as they shuffled out of the stands, “every time you or someone else mentions her, you seem a bit shaky. See, you’re sweating right now,”

Hermione dabbed the sleeve of her shirt on her forehead, embarrassed.

“Is she that scary?” Luna asked.

“Well, no, it’s not that,”

“What is it then?”

They made their way down the stairs and headed back to the castle as Hermione struggled to formulate an answer.

“She’s quite pretty,” Luna continued.

“What?” Hermione gaped at her.

“Bellatrix. I said she’s quite beautiful. I think it must be a little intimidating to be alone with someone like that,”

“Well it’s not-it’s not like that,” Hermione stuttered, “That’s not why,”

“Well, if it were why it’s okay,”

“What’s okay?”

“Thinking she’s beautiful. Being nervous because she’s beautiful. I think I’d be nervous to be around someone who looked like that too,” Luna shrugged, as if she were talking about the weather and not a murderer’s astoundingly good looks.

“Well…thanks, I guess. I should get going,” Hermione said, backing away.

“Good luck, Hermione!” Luna called after her.

What Luna was wishing her good luck on was utterly beyond her. She put it out of her mind as she made her way back to Bellatrix’s room. The walk itself was always so incredibly daunting; the amount of winding corridors and staircases was ridiculous.

By the time she reached the room she was too tired to feel nervous about seeing her again. She only knocked on the door and entered when she heard a response as always.

Bellatrix was sitting in the armchair by the fire, swirling a glass of wine around in its glass and staring pensively into the flames. She was wearing only a slip of a grey nightdress and a black robe over it, still too revealing for Hermione to feel entirely comfortable.

“Are you sure you should be drinking that?” Hermione asked.

Bellatrix looked up at her and seeing the nervousness on her face, sighed and put the glass down. Satisfied, Hermione took a seat on the couch.

“What did you want me to come by for?” Hermione asked coolly.

“I just wanted to talk,” Bellatrix said, reminding Hermione oddly of Crookshanks in the disaffected way her eyes settled on her face.

“About?”

“Anything,”

The two sat in silence while Hermione drew blanks on what they had to talk about. All she could think about was Bella’s hands on her wrists, her body molded to hers. How _inappropriate_ it had been, how telling her to stop had been an afterthought.

“What are the small, strange looking creatures that deliver my meals?” Bella asked.

Hermione’s eyes whipped back to the woman, “You mean the house-elves?”

“ _House-elves?_ ” Bellatrix repeated, her brows pulling together in that cute look of frustrated confusion.

“Yes. They’re a kind of magical creatures that are bound to lives of servitude to witches and wizards. We have many here at Hogwarts, working in the kitchens and such,”

Bellatrix turned in her armchair to face her fully. The woman had a way of listening to what Hermione had to say in a way she wasn’t used to. She was used to being tuned out or brushed off; the overbearing know it all who couldn’t keep her mouth shut. These meetings with Bella always left her feeling like what she had to say was worth hearing.

“All house-elves are servants? Why?”

“It’s just the way it is,” Hermione said irritably, “It’s quite unfair if you ask me. They’re treated horribly and they have no choice but to obey their masters! I’m disappointed we have them at this school,”

Bella nodded solemnly, “Yes, they’re quite the ugly little bastards but I don’t suppose it’s fair to enslave them all and remove their free will entirely,”

“Yes!” Hermione exclaimed, “That’s what I’m always saying but no one seems to listen or care,”

“That’s because it’s not convenient to care about such things,” Bellatrix said, sounding awfully superior for someone who knew little to nothing about the world they lived in. However, Hermione agreed with her fully.

“And you care about these issues?”

“I don’t know if _care_ is the right word but I certainly don’t think the enslavement of an entire species is in any way ethical,”

Shocked at Bellatrix’s stance on the issue, Hermione began telling her about SPEW and all she’d done to try to make a difference. The older woman merely listened with cool indifference, not offering words of support or discouragement. The mere fact that she could just sit and listen to Hermione go on and on about the subject was beyond anything she’d experienced before. No one, not even her closest friends, had ever truly listened to her on a subject she was so blatantly passionate about.

Perhaps it was pathetic that Hermione had to resort to confiding in someone who had quite literally nothing else to do but to listen, but she would take what she could get. Bellatrix did seem to enjoy listening to Hermione’s opinions and sharing in her knowledge no matter how hard she tried to conceal her personal feelings.

When they moved on to the subject of other magical creatures and how they were treated by witches and wizards, Bellatrix picked up her glass and sank back in her chair, relaxing to the sound of the sixth year prattling on.

When Hermione noticed the glass back in her hand she cut off her speech abruptly.

“Wait a moment, Bella, where did you even _get_ wine?”

“Draco brought it over,” she said, twirling its contents around under her nose.

Hermione frowned, “That’s very…random,”

Bella just shrugged and brought the glass to her lips.

Hermione was reminded suddenly of the Katie Bell incident with the necklace, of Harry’s wild accusations. Harry was convinced Draco was working for Voldemort now and after the events of the year and seeing him in Borgin and Burkes, the idea wasn’t unbelievable.

If that was true and Draco knew Bellatrix was being kept at the school, that would mean Voldemort already knew…

“Bella, wait!”

Hermione was moments too late. Bellatrix had taken a huge gulp of the wine.

“What?” she asked before her eyes rolled back into her head and she began seizing.

“Oh my god!” Hermione yelped, rushing to Bellatrix’s side as she slid off the chair and catching the back of her head before it hit the floor. Her mind rushed to find a solution.

Remembering the lesson she’d given Bellatrix on first year potions, she recalled a possible way to save her life.

Flying into action, Hermione leapt up and made a break for the door. Wand out, she flew down the stairs, down the hallway and busted the door to the potions class room off its hinges without a second thought. It took her only moments to locate what she was looking for in one of the cabinets and she prayed she was quick enough.

When she reached Bella’s room again, the woman was lying motionless on the floor, foam dripping from her mouth. Tears streaming down her face, Hermione hurriedly pulled her mouth open and shoved the bezoar down her throat.

“Please Bella, please wake up,” she chanted softly.

There were a few terrible, unbearable moments in which Bellatrix continued to lie still. At last she gasped awake and sat up as her eyes frantically searched out Hermione’s face.

Hermione sobbed in relief, “Oh, thank Merlin,” and threw her arms around the woman’s neck.

Bellatrix allowed it, probably only because she was coming back from the brink of death. Her dark head rested heavily on Hermione’s shoulder, breathing raggedly.

“You’re crying,” Bellatrix observed as Hermione tried to get it under control.

Hermione laughed through her next sob, “I suppose I was a bit worried,”

“You, worried? I’m the one who bloody near died,” Bellatrix said, almost sounding as if she were joking.

The brink of death suited her. Having had enough of the girls embrace, Bellatrix scooted away and shakily got to her feet. Hermione rose to help balance her but Bellatrix had had enough tenderness for the evening.

“I’m alright,” she said, her voice clipped.

Hermione took a shuddering breath and wiped another stray tear. Bellatrix caught the gesture and sighed again.

“Thank you, Granger.”

Having pulled herself together, Hermione nodded, “If Draco tried to poison you, he wasn’t acting out of his own free will. Voldemort must have ordered your death,”

Bellatrix moved to sit heavily on the edge of her bed, “My former master wants me dead?”

“You’re in enemy hands now, you’re a risk to his cause,”

Bella nodded, absorbing this. Hermione’s stomach felt heavy with concern; the woman already had hardly anything to live for and now the man she used to live for wanted her dead.

“We’ll keep you safe,” Hermione continued, “we…I won’t let anything like this happen again,”

Bellatrix only stared at her lap and the sixth year went to her side to squeeze her shoulder. When Bella didn’t respond, Hermione picked up the bottle of wine and left her to her thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

_They would take me from your hand_   
_Or they would try, they would try_   
_This is the murmur of the land_   
_This is the sound of love's marching band_   
_And how they hold you like a gun_   
_And how I sing you like a song_   
_I heard when I was young_   
_And buried for a night like this_

_-The Wisp Sings, Winter Aid_

Even with both Harry and Hermione swearing up and down that Draco was a Death Eater, Dumbledore still refused to incriminate him without more substantial evidence. Dumbledore had apparently questioned him after Bella was poisoned and found whatever bullshit lie he came up with believable. Hermione knew she ought to have faith in Dumbledore’s judgement with how much she had riding on it when it came to Bella, but she was really struggling with this one.

Harry wasn’t exactly concerned for Bellatrix’s safety but he was happy to have Hermione fully on his side now about Draco’s betrayal. Although still, there wasn’t much to do about it if Dumbledore refused to believe them.

On the bright side, Ron and Harry were becoming more at ease with the time Hermione spent with the witch. She had still yet to be truly harmed by her and it was putting their concerns at ease. Harry of course was still nowhere near ready to forgive her, but he was beginning to understand Hermione’s motivation and all the good it could do for their cause.

Ron’s relationship with Lavender made Hermione feel a bit alienated from her friend and his pigheadedness was getting on her nerves. If getting a girlfriend affected their friendship this much, how much did she ever really mean to him? She’d just have to hope the relationship would fizzle out; an increasingly likely scenario when she learned through Harry that Ron was beginning to feel overwhelmed by it all. It was incredibly irksome that while Harry and Hermione were wrapped up in doing what they could to stop a war, Ron was wrapped up in dating problems.

Long past were the days Hermione could stand to ignore Bellatrix. The night she was poisoned caused something to shift; no longer was the woman a destructive force bent on derailing Hermione’s life; she’d become a confidant, someone she was eager to see grow and develop. A force of nature yes, but one she believed she could guide into something magnificent.

Her visits went from weekly to nightly. Madame Pomfrey made a few house calls to Bella’s room to ensure she was making a full recovery but designated her to a week’s bedrest. Knowing her tendency for mood swings increased greatly the longer she was confined to her room, Hermione took it upon herself to ensure she was there every night of that week. 

During those nights she would bring her school work over and work on it, often with Bellatrix sitting close enough to read over her shoulder. She already demonstrated a remarkable understanding of sixth year curriculum.

Perhaps it was another result of nearly dying but Bella hadn’t made any more inappropriate advances. The third night Hermione spend studying with her she tentatively broached the subject.

Bella’s response was only, “If I ever make another advance on you, Granger, it’ll be because you begged for it,”

“Unlikely,” Hermione gritted out.

“We’ll see,” Bellatrix smiled.

The fourth night into the week of bedrest was Slughorn’s Christmas party and considering her increasingly uncomfortable situation with Cormac she elected not to go. She got an earful from Harry who was upset she was “leaving him to fend for himself”.

That night she stayed much later than usual. They spent an hour with Bellatrix quizzing her for her upcoming exams, proving to be an incredibly motivational study partner through her scathing insults every time Hermione answered wrong.

After Hermione felt prepared for her exam, she spent the rest of the night practicing spells with Bella.

Sitting next to Bellatrix on her bed, Hermione pointed her wand ahead of them and cast, “ _Avis,”_

With a loud crack, a flock of little yellow birds exploded forth from her wand and began fluttering about the spacious room.

When she turned to see Bellatrix’s reaction, she looked both impressed and annoyed.

“What, you don’t like birds?” Hermione asked, smiling.

Bella wrinkled her nose, “Well, they’re a bit loud,”

Grinning now, Hermione pointed her wand at Bellatrix’s head and wordlessly commanded the birds to go to her.

The eight yellow canaries immediately fluttered over to her, flapping about her head.

“Dammit, Granger!” Bellatrix shouted, swatting angrily at them.

Hermione howled with laughter, falling back on the bed as she watched the witch struggle.

“Get them off!”

“Ask nicely!”

“Get them off, you little shit!”

Hermione only laughed harder. When a couple birds latched themselves onto Bella’s untamed hair Hermione finally took pity on her clear distress. With a wave of her wand, the birds vanished with quiet _pops._

Bellatrix glared fiercely at her, her hair sticking up in all different directions. Hermione sat back up and scrambled closer smiling sheepishly now and patting apologetically at her hair.

Bella’s glare slipped back into that childish pout and she crossed her arms.

“Go away,” she said, turning her head away.

“Oh, Bella, I’m sorry. It was just a few little birds,” Hermione said, resting her hands on her lap.

Bellatrix was giving her the cold shoulder now, refusing to look at her.

“You know, it is the holiday season and I did have an idea for a present for you, but if you’re ignoring me maybe I just won’t give it to you,”

After a second, Bellatrix’s eyes flicked back to her but she remained silent. Hermione sighed overdramatically and stood to leave. Before she could make her way to the door Bellatrix grabbed her wrist.

“Tell me,”

“Well,” Hermione said, sitting back down, “I talked it over with Dumbledore and he’s going to allow us to enter the forbidden forest to gather ingredients for Slughorn’s class once your bedrest is over,”

Although Bellatrix’s face remained impassive, Hermione had been around her enough at this point to be able to recognize the witch’s interest through the smallest quirk of her eyebrow.

“The forbidden forest is full of dark mysteries,” Hermione lowered her voice comically, “powerful creatures, elusive materials…”

Bellatrix’s lips quirked up, “Okay, I get it. Very exciting. Thanks, Granger,”

Hermione beamed, “You’re welcome,”

**XXX**

The week continued like that. Hermione started the night with her own studies and finished the night practicing minor spells with Bella. Even confined to a bed, Bellatrix was still hell bent on improving her magical abilities. Typically Hermione would leave around 11pm, an hour past curfew. Her “special mission” from Dumbledore gave her some leeway in that she was never in trouble if seen out and about past curfew.

The last night of bedrest Hermione was particularly exhausted and ended up falling asleep in Bellatrix’s bed. Not for long, after a couple hours she was awoken quite abruptly by a hand to the face.

“Ah! What the-“ she broke of when she blinked awake and saw Bellatrix in the dim light of the dying fire, visibly caught in a distressing dream. Her chest was heaving, her head tossing fretfully back and forth. The smallest whimpers escaped her mouth.

“Wake up, Bella,” Hermione said, shaking her shoulder. She remained asleep, a few tears leaking from her eyes.

Hermione shook harder, “Bella, you’re dreaming!”

Her eyes flew open and she promptly wrapped her fingers around Hermione’s neck and flipped them so she leaned over her. Hermione clawed at the iron grip, gasping for air to no avail. Bellatrix’s eyes were swimming with pain and tears. When the clouded eyes didn’t clear and the grip wouldn’t slacken, Hermione slapped her hard across the face.

Bellatrix blinked dazedly at her and finally let go. She was shivering as she rolled away and onto her back.

Hermione gulped hoarsely, rubbing at her sore neck. Bellatrix was still as out of control and terrifying as she was when she first showed up at this school.

“What was that?” Hermione rasped.

Bellatrix was making a visible effort to even out her breaths and get herself under control. Hermione was beginning to think she wouldn’t answer.

“Nightmares,” She final said, her voice eerily quiet, “Sometimes I dream of these dark shadows…monsters. They come for my soul, I can feel them drawing it out of me,”

Hermione rolled onto her side to look at Bellatrix, who was staring resolutely at the celling.

“Dementors,” Hermione explained, “You’re dreaming of Dementors. When you spent your time in Azkaban, Dementors would suck out all of your happiness, all of your good memories. It’s inhumane, what they do there,”

“From what you’ve told me about the kind of person I was, I deserved it,”

Hermione shook her head, “No, I don’t think anyone deserves that. Not even you. Why apprehend criminals only to take away any last shred of sanity and goodness they may have still possessed? We’re only making them into…monsters,”

“You think I was truly a monster?”

Hermione pondered this, “I don’t know…maybe. I didn’t really know you, I only knew about the things you did,”

“And now? Do you think I’m a monster now?”

Hermione’s heart was fluttering inexplicably, “No,”

“I don’t want them back,” Bellatrix said so, so softly, “I don’t want my memories back,”

The meaning behind her words hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. Bellatrix didn’t value the person she was before, she didn’t want her back. This new Bellatrix was dark, erratic, unstable, but she was not a killer. She wanted to better. And that made Hermione feel like Bellatrix had plucked her heart out of her chest and replaced it with the _sun,_ and warmth burst out from her chest and ran through her body, all the way to her fingertips.

It felt too hot in the room all of the sudden, Hermione could feel heat creeping up her neck, could feel her hands trembling. Slowly, so as not to startle her, her hand crept across the sheets until her fingers brushed the back of Bellatrix’s hand.

There was the smallest hitch in Bellatrix’s breath. Hermione watched her eyelids flutter closed, then Bellatrix turned her hand over. Hermione laced their fingers together.

“Would you like me to stay tonight?” Hermione asked, blushing harder at what her words implied

Surprising her, Bellatrix didn’t so much as smirk. She only whispered, “Yes,” and tightened her fingers around Hermione’s.

**XXX**

“No way,” Harry said, “No way are we letting you go into the Forbidden Forest with Bellatrix Lestrange _alone,_ ”

They were gathered at the dinner table the night the venture into the forbidden forest was scheduled. Hermione didn’t want to start keeping secrets from her best friends but they were really making it hard when they acted like Hermione was defenseless and like all Bellatrix wanted to do was to hurt her.

Ron bobbed his head in agreement, “Yeah, Hermione, you’re mental if you think that’s a good idea. Besides she’s probably just bringing you out there to kill you,”

“First of all, it’s Bellatrix Black. Second, please, Ronald, it was my idea to go,” Hermione glared at them, “besides, Dumbledore seemed to think it was a fine idea,”

“C’mon,” Harry reasoned, “at least let us come with you. We’ll watch your back,”

“My back doesn’t need to be watched,” The boys continued to frown at her, “But _fine._ You can come,”

They finished eating while Ron talked about his recent break up with Lavender and Harry caught them up on some of the memories he’d seen about Voldemort in the Pensieve. Hermione was only half listening, distracted by thoughts of think raven hair, dark eyes and red lips. She hoped to see one of Bellatrix’s rare, genuine smiles tonight. It was pretty likely, for tonight would be the first night the woman has gotten to go outside in several weeks.

“Hermione,” Harry said, pulling her out of her thoughts. She only then noticed that Harry and Ron were standing and looking at her with concern, “Ready to go?”

“Yes!”

She stood up and they made their way out of the Great Hall, Hermione leading the way with her friends close behind her.

Most of the walk was uncomfortably quiet. Hermione could practically feel the boys brainstorming ways to talk her out of this.

“You’re sure we can’t talk you out of this?” Ron asked, on cue.

“Quite sure. You know, I think once the two of you get to know her, you’ll see there’s really nothing to worry about,”

“Yeah, maybe not as long as her memories are gone,” Ron grumbled.

Hermione began climbing the stairs leading to Bella’s room, “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m just saying…what if whoever took her memories decides to, I dunno, give them back? Don’t pretend she wouldn’t turn on us in an instant,”

Hermione stopped in front of the door and considered what Ron was saying. The possibility of Bella ever getting her memories back was quickly becoming one of her worst fears.

“I won’t let that happen,” She said lowly.          

When she opened the door Bellatrix was pulling on a traveling coat. She turned around and groaned when she saw Hermione’s friends.

“Dammit,” She whined, “and to think I was actually looking forward to this,”

“It’ll still be fun!”

“Right,” Bella scoffed and pushed past them, out the open door.

When Hermione turned to follow her she caught a look between Ron and Harry.

“What?”

“It’s just,” Harry looked uncomfortable, “That was quite the familiar exchange,”

“Well, we have been spending a lot of time together,” Hermione defended, cheeks reddening.

“Just studying though, yeah?” Ron prodded.

Hermione walked after Bellatrix, “Well, what else would we be doing? Bella, wait up!”

Bella refused to talk the entire way out of the castle. The three students went over the materials they were supposed to collect and the older witch only walked a few steps ahead of them, arms crossed. They tried to take a less populated path out of the castle but once in a while they’d pass a student who would do one of the following; stop and gawk, stop and glare, or speed up and get out of harm’s way as quickly as possible. The student who was visibly terrified, a first year Hufflepuff, cheered Bellatrix up a bit and she allowed Hermione to walk next to her.

She touched Bellatrix’s elbow, trying to link arms, but the woman immediately jerked away and shot her a look.

 _Okay,_ Hermione thought, _I guess we’re not there yet._

The moment they left the castle Bellatrix stopped walking and just _looked_. Hermione watched her breathe in the fresh air, watched her tilt her head back and feel the wind on her face. Hermione watched that wind push think dark curls back from her face and she felt the smallest prick of jealousy. She wanted to be the one to run her hands through those locks.

Bellatrix looked good in the dying light. The pale yellow of the setting sun brightened up her sallow face and the air seemed to have this soothing effect on her. She’d never seen the woman so at ease, no scowl on her face, her shoulders were relaxed and arms at her side.

The sound of someone clearing their throat broke the spell. Bellatrix’s eyes snapped open and Hermione reluctantly looked back at Harry and Ron, looking back at them from a few feet ahead.

“Well, are we going?” Ron said impatiently.

“Come on,” Hermione said softly.

As they approached the forest Bellatrix developed a bit of a skip to her step until she started jogging ahead of them.

“Bellatrix, stop that, you’ll get lost!” Hermione called after her.

The woman was already disappearing into the trees and the Gryffindors ran after her, following the sound of her exuberant cackling. Hermione was the first to catch sight of her again and she sprinted after her. Right as she caught up her foot snagged in one of the protruding roots. She stumbled right into Bellatrix, who only caught the force of her fall and steadied her, still laughing.

Hermione glared up at her but the expression melted away when she saw her face. She’d never seen that pure look of joy on her face, and it was more beautiful than she could’ve imagined. Her hang was wrapped around Hermione’s upper arm and her head was thrown back as she laughed into the open air. Her laugh had softened from the crazed cackle to a noise that made Hermione think of bells jingling or a babbling brook. She decided in that moment to try to pull that laugh out of her as often as she possibly could.

When Ron and Harry caught up Ron stumbled over that same root and crashed into them. That stopped Bellatrix’s laughing and Hermione mourned the loss.

“You’re all a bunch of clumsy gits aren’t you?” Bellatrix chided, instantly back to her old self.

“Bugger off,” Ron grumbled.

“Don’t go running off like that again,” Harry scolded and Bellatrix glared.

“I’ll go where I want, Potter” she snarled, stepping threateningly toward him.

Hermione grabbed her arm, “Please, Bella. Let’s just all stay calm and have a good time,”

Bellatrix blew a stray curl out of her face, “As long as no one thinks they can boss me around we’ll have a bloody great time,”

“Right then,” Harry sighed, trying to reign in his temper for Hermione’s sake, “We’re looking for nightshade, bloodroot, belladonna-”

“A bunch of fucking flowers?” Bellatrix complained.

“Um, we’re also looking for unicorn blood,” Harry said.

“And belladonna is a plant, not a flower,” Hermione corrected and all three of her companions collectively rolled their eyes.

“Right, then how about we all split up and send up a flare when we find one,” Bellatrix suggested.

“Nice try,” Ron said, “No way are we splitting up,”

“Aw, is baby weasel scared to be by himself in the big, dark forest?” Bellatrix taunted in that infuriating baby voice.

“What-no!” Ron spluttered, “I’m not willing to let you out of my sight is all,”

“Ron’s right,” Harry said, “it’s safer if we stick together,”

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at Hermione as if expecting her to agree with her. When Hermione failed to come to her defense Bellatrix huffed and stomped off ahead of them.

“She acts like a bloody five year old,” Ron grumbled.

“Don’t,” Hermione said, “she’s going through a lot,”

Hermione could feel Ron and Harry looking at her strangely but she ignored them in favor of watching Bellatrix stomp through the forest ahead of them. She wasn’t sure what it was but Bella looked at home here somehow. The light of the sun was almost completely replaced by moonlight and Bellatrix glowed. Despite her irritated walk she managed to step gracefully over twisted roots, her hands dragged across the bark and she winded between the trees.

Bellatrix glanced over her shoulder to meet Hermione’s eyes. Even from ten feet away Hermione could recognize the storm of emotions behind her eyes, an expression she’d seen often. It said _I am angry and sad and lost but I am fighting to stay right here with you._

A sigh escaped her lips and this time she didn’t notice the looks her friends gave her. She only noticed the clearing of Bella’s eyes and the smallest smile teasing the corner of her mouth. Somehow even without paying any attention to where her feet were going, her steps remained perfectly placed.

Ron did not possess the same grace, a fact made evident when he tripped and fell right into the dirt next to Hermione. Bellatrix cackled loudly and although she didn’t rush back to help, she did stop walking and wait.

Harry and Hermione both kneeled down. Ron sat up and rubbed at the smudge of dirt on his cheek. Hermione giggled.

“What?” Ron asked, face bright red.

“I was just reminded of when we all first met,”

Harry smiled, “Yes, the dirt on his nose. That was even more embarrassing than this is,”

Ron punched his shoulder, “Hey!”

The three of them laughed and Hermione looked up at Bellatrix. There was the barest hint of sadness flickering in her eyes as she watched them, but the look was quickly wiped away when she realized Hermione was staring. She quirked an eyebrow impatiently.

The laughter died out just in time for all four to hear a twig snap nearby. Everyone was instantly on high alert; the three students stood and Bella drew her wand.

Hermione felt a sinking feeling of dread even before Harry winced and pressed a hand to his forehead. From up ahead, just in front of Bella, four dark figures emerged.

Hermione recognized Dolohov, Rabastan and Rodolphus from the Ministry of Magic. They were unmasked and their faces were ugly and twisted with cruel glee. The last figure to emerge was Voldemort himself. When his red eyes settled on the witch his face contorted into a hungry smile, like a predator about to devour its prey.

Bellatrix stood ramrod straight, chin raised defiantly and wand pointed square at her former master’s chest. Hermione never thought she’d see the day that Voldemort’s most loyal follower would stand against him.

“Voldemort, I presume?” Bellatrix said, absolutely no hint of fear in her voice. Hermione felt a swell of pride.

“You’ll address your master as the Dark Lord, you arrogant bitch,” Rabastan hissed.

“It’s alright, Rabastan,” Voldemort said, still smiling, “She doesn’t know who she is, and she certainly doesn’t understand who I am,”

“I understand enough,” Bellatrix countered, wand not wavering.

 _What absurd bravery,_ Hermione thought, _Perhaps this new Bellatrix is a bit of a Gryffindor._

“Oh you really don’t,” Voldemort said, his silky voice reached out and slid around them all, making it impossible not to listen, “Come now, Bella. You really don’t understand enough about all of this to make any rash decisions. We can sort this all out. Come with me and I promise you we’ll get to the bottom of this. We’ll get your memories back,”

Bellatrix was silent, unmovable. Hermione’s heart thundered in her chest.

Voldemort continued, stepping forward until his chest connected with the tip of Bella’s wand, “Look at you, Bellatrix. You’re embarrassing yourself, associating with these blood traitors. With that _mudblood_. Come with me so we can set all of this right,”

Bellatrix’s gaze hardened at the slur, “I’m not going anywhere with you,”

Voldemort’s mask of collected confidence slipped away to pure unbridled rage.

“Dolohov,” he said.

Before Bellatrix could think to react Dolohov stunned her. Bellatrix flew backwards into a tree, her head slamming into the trunk.

“Bellatrix!” Hermione cried, pulling her wand and firing a curse at Dolohov.

Harry and Ron followed suit, Harry engaging Rabastan and Ron Rodolphus. Dolohov was a fierce competitor but her anger at the situation made her his equal. As she’d seen from Bellatrix in the Room of Requirement, anger could be a useful tool when dueling.

The onslaught was vicious, unrelenting. The trio held their own, drawing strength from each other’s presence.

Still, three experienced Death Eaters were far more skilled than the three Hogwarts students. It wasn’t long before Hermione’s anger began to burn out and each block became more difficult than the last. Just when she wasn’t sure she’d be able to defend herself any longer Voldemort’s voice rang out.

“Stop!”

The Death Eaters ceased their assault at the command. Hermione blew out a breath of relief, sweat making wisps of her hair stick to her forehead. When she glanced at her friends she saw they weren’t fairing much better. Ron looked on the verge of collapse and Harry just looked grim and exhausted.

Bellatrix was conscious now, on her knees, and Voldemort was grabbing her roughly by her hair. Her face was ashen and twisted in pain.

“It’s time to get to the bottom of this,” Voldemort said, “The Bellatrix I know would never disobey me, no matter the circumstances,”

Bellatrix tried to pull away but Voldemort only yanked harder on her hair. It must’ve hurt, but the woman didn’t make a sound. Voldemort pointed his wand at the top of her head and whispered, “Legilimens,”

The woman threw her head back, focused wide eyes on the canopy of leaves above. Tears fell from her eyes.

Hermione rushed forward, wanting, _needing_ to stop her pain. Harry caught her around the waist at the same time Rabastan pointed a wand at her.

“Stop!” Hermione shouted, “Can’t you see what you’re doing to her?”

She should have known that Voldemort didn’t _care_ what he was doing. Still, she couldn’t sit by and allow this perverse invasion, not for the second time in Bellatrix’s short memory.

It went on far too long, until Hermione’s nails dug painfully into Harry’s arm and she was contemplating running for her anyway and taking her chances with the Death Eaters. She could tell the exact moment he left her mind. Bellatrix slumped to the ground, catching herself on her elbow. Voldemort stumbled away from her, an expression of bone deep revulsion on his face. Bellatrix groaned softly, her shoulders shaking. Hermione didn’t think Legilimency was typically painful, but she couldn’t imagine having that cruel, violent man invading every corner of her mind, forcefully pulling every secret from every dark corner.

“The _mudblood?_ ” Voldemort spat, “I ought to kill you for that, Bella. But I know this isn’t you,”

Bella pushed herself up to her knees. Her breathing was heavy and visible in the cool air as she shakily got back to her feet. Voldemort watched her darkly, contemplatively.

“No, no, I won’t kill you,” He turned to Hermione, “I think I’ll kill your precious mudblood, teach you a lesson!”

His wand flew up before any of the Gryffindor’s could react.

“Avada-”

Before the curse could make it out of his mouth, a wordless curse flew from the tip of Bella’s wand. Struck with a jet of red light, Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself, stumbled and tripped into the dirt from the force of his former Lieutenant’s stunning spell. He laid immobile in the dirt, completely unconscious. Hermione could hardly comprehend it. It must take incredible power to render a man like Voldemort completely knocked out in one spell.

“Bloody hell,” Ron breathed out.

Bellatrix may have only stunned the Dark Lord but her action had caused all of the witnesses to imitate the effects from the shock of it. She stood now in her full glory, emanating raw power. She was feral, viscous, magnificent. She shifted her wand to point at the three followers.

“I suggest you three,” She snarled, “take your so-called _Lord_ and get the hell out of here,”

Rodolphus glared at his former wife with the deepest look of betrayal. His brother and Dolohov knelt next to Voldemort, preparing to apparate.

“We were married once,” He said. He didn’t sound sad. He sounded like he was in disbelief. Hermione couldn’t blame him. The woman who was his wife didn’t really exist anymore.

Bellatrix dropped her arm, her wand resting by her thigh.

Hermione wanted to run to her, smooth her wild hair back and make sure she was okay. Something stopped her; she couldn’t discern whether it was fear or self-consciousness. Perhaps a bit of both.

Bellatrix stared at the man in front of her with nothing but pure disdain, “Were we in love?”

 _In love._ Bellatrix said the words like she was speaking of a disease.

Rodolphus swallowed and looked away, unable to meet her piercing gaze, “No. I don’t think you were capable of it. Blind devotion maybe, but love?”

He shook his head and joined his comrades. They disapparated with a _crack_ and Hermione nearly collapsed in relief.

 Bellatrix stared blankly at the place where the four disappeared. Then, without a word she turned and began walking back towards the castle.  She brushed by them without so much as a glance.

The three students stared after the woman, trying to process what they’d just witnessed.

“What just happened?” Ron asked, dazed.

Harry just shook his head, bewildered.

“Bellatrix just betrayed her master and saved my life,” Hermione whispered.

_But what did Voldemort see inside her head?_


	5. Chapter 5

The trio made sure Bellatrix was safely back in her room once they got back to the castle. Bellatrix hadn’t said a word since leaving the forest despite Hermione’s gentle prodding for some sort of confirmation that she was okay.

“Just give her some space,” Harry said after Bella’s door slammed in her face.

Hermione nodded, dejected.

Harry patted her back, “To Dumbledore’s then?”

The three nodded and set off for his office. It must have been 10p.m by then but they found Dumbledore sitting at his desk doing paperwork. He glanced up when they entered and did a double take when he saw them sweaty and worn. Fawkes ruffled his feathers when he saw them and let out a soft _caw._ The phoenix flew over and landed on Hermione’s shoulder. She felt his soft, downy feathered face press against her forehead and seep tears into a cut she didn’t know she had. She felt better instantly, and she wondered if the bird could cure more than physical injuries. Hermione rubbed the feather’s just above his beak appreciatively.

“Oh dear,” Dumbledore murmured, “Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea, perhaps?”

“Ah, I’m not sure we’re in the mood, Headmaster,” Harry said.

“Right, of course, well please sit down and let’s talk about why you three look like you were…”

“Attacked by Voldemort and three Death Eaters?” Ron finished.

Fawkes squawked and flew back to his perch.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, assessing them worriedly, “And Miss Black is…?”

“In her room, resting,” Hermione said as the three of them sat across from the Headmaster.

“So she chose to stay, then?”

“She did more than that,” Hermione said, smiling, “She saved me,”

“She saved all of us, really,” Harry added, looking like he could hardly believe what he was saying.

Dumbledore met Hermione’s eyes and returned the smile, “It would appear Miss Granger has done her job well then. Bellatrix would not only chose to stay with you, but fight and put herself in harm’s way to do so,”

Hermione abashedly dropped her gaze to her hands, glowing at the praise. Bellatrix, _her_ Bellatrix, had turned her back on her master and her husband to save her. She had proved herself to Harry, one of the people she had harmed most in the world. She proved that even one of the world’s most powerful wizards could not steal her away.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “I believe she’s earned our trust. In fact, I think she’s more than earned the right to be able to leave her room as she pleases,”

Harry stiffened but didn’t protest.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, “I’m inclined to agree. Unless either of you have any reason to disagree?”

Harry and Ron shook their heads. How could they do anything else, when that woman had saved Hermione from a killing curse?

“Very well. Do deliver her the good news in the morning, Hermione. Now, the three of you should be off to bed. You deserve a good night’s rest. I will have the Aurors down here shortly to ensure there is no sign of Voldemort or his acolytes in the forest,”

 The three wearily pushed themselves to their feet.

“Well done, you three,” Dumbledore said.

* * *

When Hermione went to Bella’s room the next morning to tell her the good news, the woman wouldn’t even look at her. She was still in bed, facing away from her.

Hermione sat down on the edge of her bed and put a hand on what she thought was Bella’s ankle under the blanket.

“Can you at least look at me?” she asked.

Bella continued to look away from her, laying on her side and facing the window instead.

Hermione sighed, “Well, I came to tell you that after last night, you’ve gained Dumbledore’s trust. And mine.”

She could’ve sworn she heard the woman’s breath catch. Hermione rubbed her thumb over Bella’s ankle soothingly, although she probably couldn’t feel it through her covers.

“So now the enchantment on your door has been lifted and you’re free to move about the castle as you please,” she continued.

Hermione watched Bellatrix’s profile for any sort of reaction. Bellatrix still didn’t respond. Hermione sighed and stood to go. She cast one last glance at the witch before leaving to catch breakfast with her friends.

She really wasn’t surprised at the hush that fell over the students when she entered the great hall. It had only been about ten hours since the incident in the forest and it was already over the whole school. Hermione only searched for her friends and found Harry and Ron sitting with Ginny and Luna.

Everyone went back to their conversations after she sat down. Harry and Ron still looked worse for the wear and didn’t even look up when she sat in between them.

Ginny and Luna, eyed her with interest opposite her.

“Well? Do you have questions for me or did you get them all out of your system with these two?” she asked, gesturing to her bedraggled friends.

Luna was the first to speak up, “Oh yes, we’ve got all the details already. But I was just wondering, what do you think Voldemort saw in Bellatrix’s head? From what I’ve gathered it sounds like it was about you,”

Hermione blushed and looked down, “I have no idea and frankly I don’t think it’s anyone’s business,”

“Personally I think it sounds like she has a crush on you,” Luna said casually, chewing a pancake.

Hermione’s eyes snapped up, “What? No, that’s ridiculous!”

“Yeah,” Ron wrinkled his nose, “Like, they’re both girls,”

“Bellatrix is a bit old too, don’t you think?” Harry commented, taking a bite of toast.

Hermione spluttered indignantly, “Wh-okay, Ronald why would that matter? And Harry! She is not old,”

“I just mean Bellatrix was married to a guy before and it’s not like _you_ like girls, Hermione,” Ron reasoned.

Hermione tugged at her collar. Everyone was staring a bit too hard for her comfort.

Ron laughed nervously when she didn’t say anything, “ _Right,_ ‘mione?”

“Well, I’ve never really thought about it,” Hermione said, her voice going up an octave.

Luna smiled and nodded like she was expecting this. Harry just pursed his lips thoughtfully. Ginny’s mouth was hanging open a bit. Hermione didn’t want to know what Ron looked like so she just busied herself by scooping eggs onto her plate.

“So are you saying _you_ have a crush on her?” Ginny asked.

“I’m saying I’ve never thought about it,” Hermione replied cryptically.

Ron choked on his food, “You can’t-! Hermione, she’s a _Death Eater._ She’s _killed people,_ ”

Hermione was so preoccupied with her friend’s line of questioning that she didn’t notice how silent the Great Hall had fallen.

“Talking about me, are you?”

Sure enough, Bellatrix was standing by Hermione’s shoulder, looking bored even with the attention of the entire Great Hall focused solely on her. Dressed in full Slytherin uniform she almost could’ve gone unnoticed if she wasn’t so recognizable. She raised an eyebrow when Hermione and her friends all turned to look at her.

“Surprised? Was I hallucinating when I heard you tell me I could go wherever I want this morning?” Bellatrix drawled.

“Nope!” Hermione pushed Ron’s shoulder, “Scoot over,”

Ron had never looked so offended but he accommodated with a grumble.

Bellatrix slid into the spot next to her close enough for their shoulders to brush. Hermione fidgeted anxiously; she could feel the eyes of everyone in the Great Hall staring.

“Hello, Bellatrix,” Luna said, sticking her hand out over the table, “I’m Luna. I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,”

Bellatrix stared blankly at Luna’s outstretched hand, “Pleasure,”

Luna dropped her hand with a shrug, not looking offended. They fell into an awkward silence; Luna went back to her food, Harry continued eating like nothing had changed, Ginny stared at Bella and Ron glared at his plate.

“So,” Hermione cleared her throat, “How have you been?”

Bellatrix gave her a strange look before stealing a piece of toast off her plate, “Since I saw you ten minutes ago?”

Hermione frowned and decided to join Ron in staring at her food. Bellatrix continued to steal from her plate despite the fact that there was plenty of untouched food around her to choose from. Hermione didn’t mind much, she wasn’t feeling very hungry anymore anyway.

Slowly but surely, the attention of all the students shifted away from them. Hermione would feel relieved if not for…

 “Not hungry. Granger?” Bellatrix asked, her voice _very_ close to her ear.

Hermione’s neck tingled where she’d felt the brush of Bella’s breath, “Um, no,” she squeaked.

“Why not?” Bellatrix said, the smirk actually audible in her voice.

Hermione just shrugged tightly. From the corner of her eye she saw Bella tilt her head.

“Are you nervous about something?”

Bellatrix’s hand ghosted over her knee to rest on her thigh. Hermione squeaked and jerked her leg away so hard she slammed her knee on the table, making all the dishes rattle.

All of her friends were staring again.

“I have to go,” Hermione mumbled, her cheeks burning all over again. She couldn’t get out of the Great Hall and away from Bellatrix’s blasted smirking face fast enough. She stormed around the corner to a nearby staircase and plopped down on the second step, burying her face in her hands.

She ran her hands through her hair and shut her eyes, trying to calm down. _Why_ did Bellatrix have such an effect on her? And how had it gotten so much worse overnight? Why couldn’t her friends mind their own bloody business? The thought that she may fancy the fairer sex wasn’t a new one, but the thought that she might fancy the _Death Eater?_

 _Former Death Eater,_ she reasoned. Not that it made much of a difference. The woman that had committed all of those unspeakable acts still existed in the woman she knew now. There would always be a chance that someday she would get those memories back. There would always be a chance that this woman she was beginning to care about, truly, deeply care about, could one day turn on her. How could Hermione so much as consider desiring a future with a threat like that always looming over her head?

She opened her eyes to see a pair of booted feet in front of her. She groaned.

“Can’t you give me a moment’s peace?”

Bellatrix was frowning at her when she looked up.

“Me give you peace? You’re the one who…” Bellatrix trailed off, looking like she’d decided she’d better not say whatever she was about to.

Hermione stood up so they were toe to toe, “What is it with you, Bella? Why are you always…getting too close, slamming me into walls, floors, whispering in my ear? What are you playing at?”

“What do you think?” Bellatrix snarled, instantly combative. She stepped forward so her face inches from Hermione’s. In every conversation they always ended up like this, like magnets who couldn’t tolerate the space between them for long, who had no choice but to come together.

“I don’t know,”

“Well why don’t you ask?” Bellatrix’s face was screwed up in that frustrated expression that was _really_ starting to grow on Hermione, “Why don’t you ask me all the questions you’ve been dying to ask me?”

Hermione was starting to feel overwhelmed by the older witch’s proximity, the intensity of the conversation, and she moved to take a step back. Bellatrix grabbed her upper arms, not allowing her to move away.

“Ask me,” Bellatrix gritted out, “Ask me what Voldemort saw in my head,”

Hermione couldn’t find her words, staring helplessly into Bella’s eyes.

“Go on,” Bellatrix’s voice switched to taunting, “I know you want to,”

Hermione shook her head, “It’s not for me to know. You’ve been…invaded enough, Bella,”

Bella’s face smoothed and her iron grip loosened until she was almost caressing Hermione’s arms. She ran her thumbs up and down, as Hermione had done to her ankle that morning. Leave it to Bella to go from iron to honey in one breath.

“You don’t want to know?” She whispered.

Her eyes had softened and she pushed her lower lip out ever so slightly. She just looked so vulnerable and she was so _close_ and Hermione’s eyelids were fluttering.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to know,” Hermione breathed back. Her heart was doing somersaults. Bellatrix was so warm; Hermione could feel the heat seeping from her body and it made Hermione flush brightly. She knew Bellatrix could see it. They were sharing the same air now. Bellatrix’s eyes slid to her lips and Hermione licked them in anticipation. Hermione shuffled even closer, felt herself leaning in, impossibly drawn to her…

“Get off her!” Ron’s voice, Hermione registered. “What the hell are you doing to her?”

Bellatrix stepped away and Hermione felt a crushing wave of disappointment.

“I wasn’t hurting her, you git,” Bellatrix growled, turning on him, “I saved her life a few hours ago, why would I hurt her now?”

It was so cold all of the sudden. Hermione frowned and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Hermione?” Ron said. Hermione blinked as reality came back into focus.

“What were you doing?” Ron asked, his brow furrowed.

“I…” what _had_ she been doing?

One syllable was all it took to clue him in. He took a step away, looking like she’d slapped him.

“Really, Hermione? _Her?_ ”

Hermione shook her head stepping forward after him, “Ron, it wasn’t-we weren’t,”

She couldn’t seem to think of the words to defend herself. Maybe because she couldn’t defend herself, maybe because what Ron thought he saw really was what was happening. Hermione wanted to comfort him, she hated to cause him pain, but Ron just shook his head and stormed away.

“What’s it matter to him?” Bella quipped, examining her nails.

Hermione blinked back tears. She’d been doing enough crying lately but Ron had looked so hurt, so betrayed…

Hermione turned and left Bella staring after her. Bellatrix had been out of her room for less than an hour and she was already causing trouble in Hermione’s life.  

* * *

The following day was when all the students were set to go home for the holidays. Normally Hermione would’ve felt bad about leaving Bellatrix essentially by herself in the castle but after yesterday’s occurrence she was eager for some space. Lately she’d been feeling a bit overwhelmed by her closeness with the older witch and she planned to take a few days to collect herself. Hopefully by the time she came back, everything will have returned to normal.

Dumbledore and McGonagall assured her that the witch would be in good hands until her return. McGonagall looked surprised and concerned that Hermione cared at all. So, Hermione left for break without saying goodbye, not yet ready to face Bellatrix again.

She’d planned on going to the Burrow with Harry and Ron but after Ron walked in on her and Bellatrix doing…whatever, he hadn’t spoken a word to her. Perhaps he just needed space too. Hermione went instead back home to her parents.

It left her feeling a bit disappointed but the feeling disappeared once she actually saw her parents. Hogwarts felt like home but this was where she grew up and returning would always provide her with a sense of peace.

Her parents had both taken a few days off from work to stay home and spend time with her. Hermione spent those days curled up in the living room by the fireplace, rereading books from her childhood or practicing at the piano. Her father typically joined her on the couch with the paper and a cup of coffee made by her mother. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed quiet afternoons in the company of her parents with the muggle books she used to love.

The book she felt compelled to reread during her days at home was the original Beauty and the Beast by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve, translated from French. The irony didn’t escape her.

“So, dearest,” Her father said one morning, “Any new love interests or are you still hung up on that Ronald boy?”

“Dad,” Hermione grumbled, embarrassed.

“What? Doesn’t a father have a right to know the happenings in his daughter’s love life?”

Hermione chuckled and put her book down on her lap, “Well, I suppose there’d be no harm in telling you,”

She couldn’t very well confide in anyone who knew who Bellatrix really was.

Her father put down his newspaper and leaned forward conspiratorially, “Do tell,”

“Well lately it seems I may be having some feelings for…um, for a girl…” Hermione felt a bit ridiculous referring to Bellatrix Black, that sadist, that powerful, untamed woman as a _girl._

Her father scratched his jaw and raised his eyebrows but otherwise gave no other reaction. An impressive reaction considering this was the first time Hermione had ever mention possessing interest in another woman. Tentatively, Hermione continued.

“And well, she’s got a bit of a bad reputation,”

“Hm, fancy the bad girls do you?” He joked.

Hermione laughed, the tightness in her chest loosening at her father’s reaction.

“Well, I fancy this one at least. Anyway, no one really likes her. In fact, everyone but me hates her. But I _know_ there’s good in her, Dad. I’ve seen it,”

Her dad patted her knee, “Hermione, I trust your judgement better than anyone and you should too. If you think there’s good in her than I’m positive there is. Now, do you think she feels the same way as you?”

Hermione though of Bellatrix caressing her arms, staring at her lips, asking if she _wanted to know_.

“Sometimes I think she may,” Hermione acknowledged.

“Then don’t let this opportunity slip away from you. You know, I wasn’t always the good man I am today. I was a bit of a bad boy when your mother and I met,”

Hermione threw her head back and laughed at the image. Her father in a leather jacket and aviators was the visual her mind provided her with.

“Don’t laugh! My point is, your mother didn’t give up on me and look where we are now,”

Hermione allowed herself to entertain the idea of her and Bellatrix ending up similarly. Bellatrix maybe as an Auror for the Ministry and Hermione teaching at Hogwarts, quietly living out their lives together.

The idea only made her laugh harder.

When she calmed down, her father was looking at her seriously.

“I mean it, Hermione,” he said, “if she means a lot to you, don’t give up on her,”

A happy ending with Bellatrix may have seemed so utterly unattainable that the thought was laughable, but Hermione was no quitter. And if Bellatrix was willing to stand up to the world’s darkest and possibly most powerful wizard, Hermione knew she was someone worth fighting for. Someone who deserved a second chance.

Hermione nodded, taking her father’s words to heart. It felt strange, having talked about her feelings out loud. They felt more authentic now, more dangerous.

That night she dreamed of her favorite calamity, her tempest condensed into a single being.

* * *

As soon as Hermione got back to school she went searching for Bellatrix. She wasn’t surprised to find her room empty and the next logical place for her to check was outside. It was snowing and the sun was setting, making it almost unbearably cold. However, she knew the cold wouldn’t stop Bellatrix if the witch wanted to be outside. Nothing could keep that woman from what she wanted.

Sure enough, Hermione found Bellatrix sitting on the dock overlooking the frozen lake. She was impossible to miss; a spot of black in a great expanse of the white, frost covered grounds. When Hermione got closer she realized the woman was dressed similar to the way she did before she lost her memory. She was wearing a long, thick black skirt and a black button up tucked into it. Over it was a black wool robe with dark grey fur at the collar and the cuffs. She reminded Hermione of how she’d looked at the Ministry but without a corset and with softer touches to her attire. And of course, her expression. Hermione couldn’t imagine the old Bellatrix staring forlornly into a frozen lake, absently kicking her feet back and forth, lost in thought.  

Hermione cleared some of the snow next to Bellatrix so she could sit down. Bellatrix shot her a glare as she settled down next to her.

“How was your Christmas, Bella?” Hermione asked.

“Dreadful,” Bellatrix grumbled, “You left me and didn’t say anything,”

Hermione had anticipated such a response, “I know. I just needed some space,”

Bellatrix pouted and stared resolutely ahead, “Are you even going to apologize?”

Hermione smiled and scooted closer so their thighs and arms were pressed snugly together, “I’m very sorry,”

Bellatrix dropped the petulant expression and gave Hermione a kinder look, “Well then, how was your break?”

“Enlightening,” Hermione answered vaguely. “Did you go shopping? Your clothes look new,”

“Not really. I told McGonagall the clothes I like and she went shopping for me. She didn’t want to risk taking me out in public. I may be under Dumbledore’s protection but I’m still widely hated, it would seem,”

Hermione nodded her understanding and didn’t pursue the subject. Instead they simply sat and watched the snow fall on the lake together. The only sound was the rhythmic scraping of Bellatrix’s heel’s over the ice as she swung her feet.

“You know I’ve never been outside to see the snow fall before? Not that I remember, anyway,” Bellatrix mused.

Hermione turned to look at her. There was a ton of snow in her hair, pretty white flecks caught in her mass of dark curls. She looked beautiful in the snow. She imagined Bellatrix would look striking in all kinds of weather.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Hermione said, not at all referring to the snow.

Bella looked back at her and smiled like she knew. Not wanting to meet her intense eyes but not wanting to move away, Hermione rested her head on her shoulder. Bellatrix let her. They slipped back into another comfortable silence for another few minutes.

“I learned a new spell,” Bellatrix said proudly.

Hermione lifted her head in interest, “Did you now? What spell?”

“I’ll show you,” she said, pulling her wand from inside her coat and pointing it in front of them, “Orchideous,”

From thin air, a bouquet of velvety black orchids blossomed. Hermione’s breath whooshed out of her. She knew the spell but she had never seen flowers like that. They were dark and enchanting, so clearly a representation of the witch they came from. Bella grabbed them out of the air and cradled them in her arms.

“Lovely, aren’t they?” Bella asked, looking proudly at her creation.

Hermione found her voice, “They’re amazing. May I…?”

Bellatrix gently handed the flowers over. Hermione examined them closer in awe. They were really completely absent of color but stunning to look at all the same. The fact that something so delicate and flawless could come from the witch was just more proof of the gentleness and goodness that lay inside her. Hermione wondered if this side of Bellatrix had always been there, buried deep underneath, or if this person had been born the day she lost her memory.

“Keep them,” Bellatrix said.

Hermione looked up to find the witch had been watching her. Her heavy lidded gaze was full of tenderness and Hermione had never seen her look so open and genuine. Her dad’s voice floated into her head, _don’t let this opportunity slip away from you._

Before she could think better of it, Hermione leaned forward and pressed her lips to Bella’s cheek. The woman was _freezing,_ Hermione felt like she was kissing an ice sculpture. When she pulled away, Bellatrix’s cheeks were pink and her eyes were wide.

Wanting this memory to be preserved exactly as it was before either of them could ruin it, Hermione got up and headed back to the castle. Her walk back was a lot warmer than the walk out had been.

Hermione pressed her cheek to her flowers. _That ice sculpture was melting fast._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Hermione plays in this is Good Enough by Evanescence. I’d highly recommend listening for that scene. No song has ever described those two so perfectly.

Bellatrix having free reign at Hogwarts was as hilarious as it was nerve-wracking. Hermione half expected that once she was able to socialize with people other than her, Bella would find new friends she liked more. It was more than a relief to find this was absolutely not the case.

While it was true that half of Slytherin worshiped Bellatrix like she was some kind of goddess, the woman sat in on all of Hermione’s classes, sat next to her for every meal of the day, and more often than not would spend the evening with her in the library. Now that Bella had access to the library and permission from Dumbledore to attend any class she wanted to, the pressure was off Hermione to tutor her. She was sure that even on her own Bella would make astounding progress.

“It’s like she’s a baby duckling that’s imprinted on you,” was all Harry had to say on the matter, finding the whole thing amusing.

Ron did not find it amusing. In fact, the closer Hermione and Bellatrix got the weaker her friendship with Ron became. Hermione had expected something like this to happen with Harry but she had not seen it coming with Ron. Harry had more reason than most to hate the dark witch and yet he refused to let it affect their friendship.

She’d tried to bridge the gap between them but he simply wasn’t hearing any of her apologies or explanations. He didn’t care. He knew Hermione had feelings for Bella and it seemed that if Ron no longer had any shot at romance with her, he didn’t want to be in her life at all. Which was infuriating especially because he was so recently in a relationship with Lavender, yet that hadn’t made him want to be Hermione’s friend any less.

On more than one occasion Bellatrix suggested hitting him with an immobility curse and simply making him listen but Hermione wouldn’t resort to that. If Ron didn’t want to be her friend because of who she had feelings for then she wouldn’t force him.

Bellatrix seemed to particularly enjoy irritating Ron now that she knew what got under his skin the most. Hermione figured this out the first time Bella showed up in her potions class.

Ten minutes into Slughorn’s demonstration on how to brew an Antidote to Love Potion, Bellatrix strolled in.

“Oh, Hello there Miss Black,” Slughorn exclaimed, the only one in the room excited to see her apart from Hermione.

“Running a bit late, are we?” Ron grumbled.

“Well, the door was open, so…oh wait, there is no door,” Bellatrix gave Hermione a playful smirk, knowing she’d blown the door open to save her life.

A smile blossomed on Hermione’s face and she dropped her eyes. Ron noticed the exchange and glowered at the two of them.

“Come and join us, Bellatrix,” Slughorn motioned her in.

Bellatrix sauntered over to Hermione, still smirking. Hermione knew she was only putting on a show to annoy Ron but the flawless sway of her hips and those eyes boring into her own still had quite the affect.

“Where were we? Ah yes, so next you’ll want to add in seven Wiggentree twigs. Just let that sit until your potion turns pink and then you’re done!”

Hermione could feel Bellatrix standing behind her even though they weren’t touching. She could smell pine and spearmint, feel her neck tingling every time Bella exhaled.

“Alright now everyone return to your work stations and get started on your potions. We’ll work in partners today,”

“I’m with Harry,” Ron said immediately, grabbing Harry’s arm and pulling him away. Harry shot her an apologetic shrug.

Hermione turned around to find Bellatrix grinning at her.

“I guess that just leaves you and me, sweetheart,”

Hermione could never tell if Bellatrix was flirting with her or fucking with her.

“I’ll go get the ingredients,” Hermione said, slipping past the older woman.

Hermione squeezed into the throng of students all gathering materials from the cupboards. She only noticed Neville was next to her when she saw his hands shaking as he gathered vials of castor oil.

“Are you okay?” She asked. She knew it was a stupid question, but what else was there to say?

Neville only shook his head, avoided eye contact and scurried back to his table. Hermione was hit with another wave of guilt, a reminder of who Bellatrix really was.

Arms full, she made her way back to her table to find Draco and Pansy talking to Bella.

“You should come by the Slytherin common room sometime,” Pansy was saying, “I can show you some _real_ magic, much better than Granger can,”

Hermione let her ingredients clatter loudly onto the table, probably shattering at least one vial.

“Oh hello, _Hermione,”_ Parkinson sneered, “Draco was just introducing me to his aunt,”

Hermione only glared.

“Lighten up, Granger,” Draco said, “She’s allowed to make other… _friends,”_ He smirked at Pansy.

It was painfully obvious what Pansy was trying to accomplish here. Hermione’s guilt was replaced by a wave of jealousy. She looked at Bella, but the woman was only watching the interaction with an amused smile, not looking like she planned to step in.

“Why don’t you get to work, Pansy? We wouldn’t want you to fall any further behind in this class. What rank are you again? Third, fourth? After Harry and I of course,”

“Screw you,” Pansy said, stomping off with Draco in tow.

Bellatrix looked impressed. Annoyed, Hermione ignored her and began working on their potion. She was relieved to find that all her vials remained intact. As Hermione added her first batch of Wiggentree twigs she glanced at Ron and Harry’s table worriedly.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Bellatrix’s honeyed voice came from behind, right against her ear, “We’ll do better than them,”

Hermione’s hands were unsteady now but she continued to ignore the other witch and apply the ingredients to the best of her ability. She hurriedly stirred and sighed when the potion turned orange the way it was supposed to. Next, the castor oil.

“I think we ought to pour it nice and slow, don’t you?” Bellatrix murmured. With that, she slid her arms around Hermione’s waist, pressing her body softly against her back. Hermione let out a small noise of surprise. Still, she didn’t move away.

Bella’s hand covered her own over the vial of oil and she lifted it to pour it achingly slow into the cauldron. Hermione’s entire body was flushed and she felt like she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Of course to make matters worse, Ron noticed them. His face turned dark red for an entirely different reason.

Bella must have noticed too because even after the oil was in, she remained pressed against her, resting her chin on her shoulder to watch her work. When Hermione did something well, she’d hum words of appraisal in her ear. It was a feeling she could get used to, melt into, but with Ron’s angry looks she couldn’t allow herself to. At the same time she knew it would hurt when Bella finally pulled away.

When Slughorn came around to inspect their work he was visibly confused and uncomfortable at their positioning. Which Bellatrix found hilarious.

“This is, eh, great work you two,” he mumbled, looking only at their cauldron, “flawless execution,”

Bellatrix chortled quietly, pressing her mouth against Hermione’s neck to stifle the sound as he walked away. Hermione was grinning at the praise as she tried to ignore the tingling sensation at her neck. Maybe she was better at potions with Bellatrix wrapped around her.

After he did his rounds Slughorn stood at the front of the room and cleared his throat. Bellatrix moved to stand next to Hermione, still close enough for their arms to be touching. Hermione found herself leaning slightly on the older witch, unwilling to create any more distance.

“Excellent work from everyone today,” he began with a nod, “truly exponential work from Potter and Weasley, matched only by Miss Granger and Black. Both partners concocted a nearly flawless batch of the Love Potion Antidote, well done!”

“Maybe you could use some on yourself, huh Hermione?” Ron asked. Loudly.

The entire classroom burst into laughter at Hermione’s expense. Hermione’s stomach sank and she felt exactly as she had in her first year when she was made fun of for being a know-it-all with no friends; humiliated and betrayed. Only it hurt so much more coming from the boy who was supposed to be one of her closest friends.

Her cheeks burned and she considered fleeing from the room. Before she could take a step, Bellatrix shoved their table aside and rushed forward, straight at Ron. His eyes widened and she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him against his table. She pulled her wand and dug it into his neck. The class fell silent.

“I’d apologize if I were you, Weasel,” Bellatrix said lowly.

“Screw you,” Ron said, his voice strained against the pressure of her wand.

“Say that again!” Bellatrix yelled, making Ron flinch away from her. 

Hermione looked to the professor but he was stunned motionless. Harry pulled his own wand out and aimed it at Bellatrix, “C’mon, Bellatrix, drop it,”

Hermione moved forward and put herself between Harry’s wand and Bella, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder.

“Bella, please,” she said in the tense silence, “It’s okay,”

Bellatrix seemed to relax slightly at her voice. She let go of Ron roughly and put her wand away, still glowering at him. Ron smoothed his shirt out, lips pressed tightly together.

“You’re bloody pathetic, you know that?” Bella spat, “What kind of person turns his back on a friend just because she doesn’t want to fuck him? You’ve been her friend for years and this is all it takes to break you?”

Ron was staring hard at his shoes now.

Bellatrix scoffed, looking at Ron like he was the dirt beneath her boots, “What a fucking embarrassment. She’s always been so much better than you,”

Having proved her point, Bellatrix turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. What else could Hermione do but follow?

She hurried after the witch, catching up to her around the corner. Hermione grabbed her arm and Bellatrix whirled to face her.

“What?” she snapped.

Hermione started at Bella’s abruptness before stepping forward and throwing her arms around her neck. Bellatrix stiffened.

“Thank you,” she sighed into Bella’s wild hair.

Just as Hermione was about to let go Bellatrix’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist, crushing their bodies together. She heard the woman’s breath hiss out sharply against her ear, felt her fingers dig into her back. It felt like Bellatrix wanted to consume her, to meld their bodies together; it was a demise Hermione would welcome.

They remained like that for what could’ve been hours. Time felt different in Bellatrix’s arms, it felt like she was weightless, floating in a silent equilibrium. She could feel all these wonderful details of the witch she never wanted to forget. Her curls were woven silk pressing against her cheek. Her scent engulfed her in a way it never had before; with her eyes closed they could’ve been standing in the forest during a storm with the dark, earthy scent she exuded. Hermione could feel the true strength in Bellatrix’s vise grip around her waist, in the pressure of every fingertip pressing into her spine. Hermione wanted to float with her for a while longer, but if she didn’t pull away at that moment she might never be able to.

Bellatrix’s crushing hold loosened the moment she felt Hermione’s arms unwind from around her neck.

“Come with me,” Hermione said.

Bellatrix nodded without question and followed her closely until they reached a secluded corridor. Hermione barely had to focus before the Room of Requirement grinded back into existence. Once inside, it looked the same as it had the last time only with the added addition of a piano in the corner. Hermione must have been missing home more than she realized.

“You going to play me something?” Bella asked, giving her a soft smile.

Hermione laughed, “Well, that’s not why I brought you here but I suppose I can,”

“Why did you bring me here?” Bella asked as the two made their way to the center of the room.

“I’ve been thinking about your nightmares. About the Dementors. I think there’s a way I may be able to help,” Hermione drew her wand, “Have you tried casting a patronus yet?”

Bellatrix shrugged, “I haven’t bothered. Death Eaters can’t cast them,”

Hermione tapped her chin with her wand, “Hmm, but you’re not really a Death Eater anymore. Sure you still have the mark, but on the inside…”

“You think I’d be able to?” Bella asked, a sliver of hope in her voice.

“Only one way to find out,” Hermione pointed her wand and shut her eyes, “I know you’re a bit short on them, but try to pick your favorite memory. Let it fill you up, let it flow out of you,”

Her go-to memory had always been a simple one; her, Ron, and Harry in the Gryffindor common room, a book in her lap and her friend’s laughter ringing in her ears.

A bright, silvery otter sprang forth and swam through the air. The otter went straight for Bella, dancing around her head. Bella watched it with a smile, the silver essence of the patronus reflected in her eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. The smile fell from her face and she observed the shimmering figure with apprehension, “I don’t think something so beautiful could come from me,”

With a wave of her wand the otter disappeared, “Just try,”

Bellatrix sighed. Mirroring Hermione, she drew her wand and shut her eyes. Hermione could see the wheels turning as Bellatrix tried to decide on a memory. She furrowed her brow and frowned as she thought and Hermione could tell the moment she decided. Her expression tempered and her breath evened out. Hermione watched with interest as Bella’s near constant internal storm quelled as she focused on her chosen memory.

Dark lashes fluttering and the faintest wisp of a smile playing at her mouth. Bellatrix raised her wand. Her eyes flew open in surprise the moment a great, brilliant cat burst out of her wand. A panther. The cat snarled and snapped at the air, a perfect imitation of its creator.

“You did it!” Hermione exclaimed. Bellatrix was grinning at the pacing beast she’d produced. Bellatrix was right, she didn’t produce something beautiful; she produced something savage, a force to be reckoned with.

Hermione shook her head in amazement, “It’s brilliant,”

The panther exuded power and ferocity. It was truly an incredible patronus, rivaling even Harry’s in strength. It was a product of light and purity but still it was terrifying; no Dementor would be able to get past it. The panther weaved between them in a figure-eight path, looking for a threat to destroy. Hermione watched its fluid movements, fascinated.

Shimmering with pride, Bellatrix waved her wand and dismissed the patronus.

“Good, right?” She smirked.

Hermione nodded, actually feeling a pang of jealousy. Bella’s first attempt was better than her own.

“I think I deserve a song after that, hm?” Bella nodded at the piano.

She couldn’t argue with that. She tucked her wand away and headed to the piano, Bellatrix following.  The woman leaned against the side as Hermione slid onto the bench.

“Any requests?” Hermione asked, knowing full well Bellatrix wouldn’t know a single song.

“Very funny,” Bellatrix glared.

Hermione pretended to think, “Very funny…who’s that by?”

Bellatrix gave her an exasperated look.

“Okay, okay, here we go,”

Hermione tapped out a few practice notes, re-familiarizing herself with the instrument. Then she began, effectively flooring the older witch. Her fingers glided over the keys with the ease of someone who’d spent years mastering the skill. Each note resonated beautifully off the walls of the Room, like it was meant to be played in this very spot. The song was slow, haunting, the first thing that came to her mind. It reminded her of Bellatrix.

She chanced a glance at the woman’s face and saw her studying her intensely, expression unreadable, and Hermione’s fingers almost faltered over the keys. She recovered smoothly, continuing to chime out the lingering melody.

She saw Bella make a slight movement and looked up again to see her wand drawn. Before Hermione could cease playing, Bellatrix murmured something and waved her wand over the keys. Hermione pulled her hands back and was surprised to see the piano continue to play the song without her. She looked up at Bella, confused.

Bellatrix held out a hand and Hermione’s heart leapt in her chest as she understood. The moment she touched Bella’s offered hand, the woman pulled her to her feet and caught her around the waist. Hermione steadied herself by placing her free hand on Bella’s bony shoulder. Bellatrix laced their hands together and took a step back, pulling Hermione away from the piano and into a dance.

 _We’re waltzing,_ Hermione thought in amazement, _And Bellatrix is flawless at it._

Hermione gazed up at the woman, barely an inch above her in heeled boots. She opened her mouth to ask how she knew how to dance like this when it started to snow. The words died in the back of her throat.

Bellatrix, paying no mind to all of the magic happening around them, gave Hermione a perfect twirl. When their bodies reconnected, Bella slid her arm achingly slow, almost lovingly, back around Hermione’s waist. They were so close together and Hermione’s heart was slamming so hard against her chest she was sure Bellatrix must’ve felt it. Still, the woman swayed with her, guiding their steps in an expert waltz. Muscle memory, perhaps? Hermione could no longer bring herself to care.

Their breaths were visible in the now cool room, mingling together in the limited space between their mouths. Bellatrix’s eyelids were low as she watched Hermione through those thick lashes that now had small snowflakes caught in them.

 _God,_ she was so lovely that Hermione found herself blinking away tears. This moment was so devastatingly beautiful she almost couldn’t bear it. Bellatrix noticed the tears building and she faltered in her steps. She slowed their motion, unlaced her hand from Hermione’s in favor of it joining her other hand in wrapping around her waist. Like she wanted to comfort her, prevent the falling of any more tears on her behalf. Hermione wrapped one arm around Bella’s neck, fitting the woman’s neck in the crook of her elbow. Bella rested her forehead against Hermione’s and the young witch gently traced the fingertips of her other hand back and forth along Bella’s defined jaw.

Hermione remembered distantly the last time they were in this room, the last time they were pressed so close together. Bellatrix had pinned her to the floor, then called her a prude and stormed off. _Today_ , the woman lost her mind over Ron making fun of her, and now she cradled Hermione so sweetly against her.

They’d come so far in the time Bellatrix had spent here. She had somehow become one of the people Hermione was closest to in the world. The blasted woman had snaked her way into her every spare thought, haunted her every waking moment and visited her in her dreams. There was no escape and the longer the feeling lasted the less Hermione wanted to.

Hermione’s lips quirked up, feeling nothing but blinding joy in an infallible moment. Bella’s own lips pulled up in response into one of her true, unrestrained smiles. Hermione felt it in her chest and she couldn’t resist dragging her thumb lightly across Bella’s full lower lip. The smile fell away and Bella’s eyes clouded over with lust.

She realized the music had stopped and the snow froze in midair, suspended around them as if time had stopped.

Everything seemed to shift in the heaviness of the moment. It felt like the rug was pulled out from under her. A harmless crush and small flirtations were one thing, but she felt like she was drunk. She couldn’t think straight, she was too hot, unsteady. It was as if she was fighting an Imperius curse and she _needed_ to break free.

She’d never felt like this before, she’d never felt anything close and it scared the living hell out of her.

She stumbled away from Bella, shaking her head. Bellatrix looked confused, as if she was coming out of her own spell.

The snow evaporated when their connection broke.

“I-I can’t do this,” Hermione said. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if she feared physically falling to pieces without Bellatrix’s arms holding her together.

Bellatrix looked like she’d been slapped and it broke Hermione’s heart. It was overpowering, she needed to get out of there and clear her head before Bella could say something that would convince her to stay. Hermione had the sensation that if she did stay she’d be opening herself up to something she wasn’t ready for. Something that could break her in two.

She rushed out of the Room of Requirement, leaving Bellatrix crestfallen in the cold.

-

As it turns out, it is impossible to focus on studying with the image of Bellatrix’s devastated expression haunting her. And she had looked so deeply lost and wounded in a way that reminded Hermione of the day she showed up at Hogwarts without a shred of memory. To think that she had caused that expression…

The door to the common room slammed open, interrupting her train of thought and making her jump so hard the book fell off her lap. She whipped her head around to see a frantic Ginny standing in the doorway.

“Ginny?”

“Hermione, there you are!” Ginny waved her forward, “Come on, quick. It’s Bellatrix.”

Oh, no. She leaves the witch for three hours and she’s already gotten into something. What could she have possible accomplished in such a short time frame? Hermione jumped up and followed Ginny out into the hallway.

“What’s she doing?” Hermione asked, winded as she tried to keep up with Ginny’s hurried pace.

Ginny searched for words and finding none, she shook her head, “You just have to see,”

Ginny led her out of the castle and broke into a run, heading straight for the Quidditch field. As they got closer, Hermione could hear yelling and the very distinct sound of Bellatrix cackling.

They rounded the corner of the bleachers and Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes. Bellatrix was screaming something at Vincent Crabbe, who she had dancing erratically whilst bats attacked his face.

Hermione began to make out Bella’s enraged shrieking as they got closer.

“Apologize!” She was yelling, “You piece of shit!”

Hermione noticed Draco laying on his back nearby, as if Bellatrix had shoved him down. Pansy also stood nearby with Goyle. Goyle looked like he’d pissed himself and Pansy had a hand over her mouth like she was trying not to laugh.

“Call her a mudblood one more time you bloody-,”

“Bellatrix!” Hermione screamed.

Everyone turned to see Hermione enraged, storming towards Bellatrix who looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Hermione smacked Bella’s wand out of her hand and Crabbe immediately collapsed, the bat’s flapping away. Draco stumbled to his feet and went to check on his friend.

Bellatrix took a breath like she was going to defend herself when she was interrupted by a gagging noise. Hermione looked at Crabbe, who was now bent over and vomiting slugs.

She looked back at Bellatrix in shock.

“ _Three_ curses at once, Bella, really? What the hell were you thinking?”

Bellatrix shrugged indifferently, not looking remorseful in the slightest.

“Your _girlfriend_ here was just defending you,” Pansy explained, still looking pleased.

Hermione looked at Crabbe, who was rubbing his nose from the pain of having bats explode forth from it, trembling all over and still vomiting slugs. Even if he had called her a mudblood, this was just cruel. And she knew Bellatrix hadn’t just done it to defend her, she’d heard her laughing. The old Bellatrix possessed an aptitude for torture and maybe this Bella wasn’t so different in that regard. The thought made Hermione dizzy with nausea. How was this the same woman who’d cradled her so gently only hours before? Bellatrix’s personality could shift at the drop of a hat and Hermione didn’t know how to adjust to that. Today, her rage was unleashed on Crabbe, but what if one day Hermione said the wrong thing and Bellatrix decided she felt like punishing her for it?

She poured all her disappointment into one look at the older witch. She shook her head, “She’s not my girlfriend. You know Pansy, you two would be perfect for each other since you both find torture so hilarious,”

“Hermione-,” Bellatrix sighed out irritably.

“Don’t,” Hermione cut her off, turning and leaving Bellatrix behind for the second time that day. She wanted to live forever in that moment with Bellatrix in the Room of Requirement, but the woman she walked away from now felt like a different person. Only she knew they were one in the same. It felt like her heart was being plucked apart, fought over by two versions of the same woman. One she wanted desperately to hate, and one she…very much did not hate.

Hermione walked away to convince herself that every piece of her heart didn’t already belong to that madwoman. She walked away, telling herself that her heart was still safe inside her chest and not in the clutches of someone who could turn on her at any moment.


	7. Chapter 7

_I've frozen over my desires_   
_Covered up in virgin snow_   
_But when I stand beside her_   
_She burns, yeah, she burns_   
_Like petrol soaked paper and fireworks_   
_And I'm burning, I'm burning_   
_I'm burning so deep that just breathing hurts_   
_I'm melting darling and I can't let go_

_-She Burns, Foy Vance_

Hermione should have known something was wrong the moment her life started to feel normal again. No bullied students, no shadows following her to class, no…Bellatrix. How could she leave such a gaping hole in her life after less than a year of being a part of it?

She’d completely dropped off the face of the world. Hermione’s world, anyway. She’d heard from a couple of seventh years that the woman was still sitting in on classes, just not Hermione’s classes anymore. She was torn. Even though she was frustrated with Bellatrix’s unpredictable nature, she knew she’d have to forgive Bellatrix and try to work through her newfound fear of her strong feelings for the witch. Letting Bellatrix slip out of her life was simply not an option; both because Dumbledore made the witch her responsibility and because her own treacherous heart wouldn’t allow it.

The only problem was that Hermione couldn’t actually find her anywhere. Bellatrix had always been relatively easy to find but now that the witch didn’t want to be found it was practically impossible. She’d checked the lake, the library, scoped out the Great Hall at every meal and still, she was nowhere. Hermione stopped at her room every night but Bellatrix had managed to reverse the previous enchantment so no one could open the door but her.

Hermione was growing desperate. After what happened on the Quidditch field, it ought to be her avoiding Bellatrix, not the other way around. What had she done wrong?

She groaned when Bellatrix’s door was still locked the third time she checked it. It was past curfew, Bellatrix _had_ to be in there. She knocked and was greeted with silence.

“Bella…?” she called out, resting her head against her door, “I don’t know if you’re in there but if you are, please just let me in,”

Nothing.

“I don’t know why you’re avoiding me but we can work this out if you’d just stop hiding from me,”

She thought for sure that accusing Bellatrix of _hiding_ from anyone would rile her enough to open the door. Hermione didn’t care what had to happen for her to see that porcelain face again; she’d welcome it if Bella opened the door to attack her. As long as she just _opened the door._

Still the woman didn’t budge. Hermione huffed, her frustration reaching a boiling point. She utterly despised being ignored, especially when it was completely undeserved.

“I’m not going anywhere until you open this door,” Hermione declared, crossing her arms and glaring at the slab of wood as if she could break it open with her eyes.

She may as well be having a conversation with the fucking door.

“You’ll have to come out eventually,” Hermione continued, “And I’m going to be right here, waiting.”

Unless she wasn’t in there. A dreadful thought occurred to Hermione; what if Bellatrix had tired of her and decided to take Pansy up on her offer? What if she was with her right at that moment?

Hermione stepped back and slid down the wall opposite that blasted door, just staring at it. Her stomach sank at the thought of Bellatrix with someone else, touching someone else, holding someone else the way Hermione loved to be held. She shut her eyes and resigned herself to waiting. She’d wait all night if she had to, even if all it meant was getting a chance to lay into Bellatrix when she came back from screwing Parkinson.

She looked mournfully at the door in front of her and tried to distract her mind from images of Bella with another girl. She wished she had thought to bring a book, but staking out Bella’s door wasn’t exactly planned. She let her mind wander, and of course the first place it strayed was to Bellatrix.

She thought of how everything had changed this year. Not too long ago, the thought of Bellatrix Lestrange bore with it thoughts of death, torture and wickedness. She used to think of her and remember the blind fear as the woman chased them through the Department of Mysteries, her deranged laughter echoing through the halls. She used to think of the cold victory in her eyes as she murdered her cousin; Harry’s godfather. How she didn’t hesitate to taunt the boy she just destroyed.

And now when she thought of Bellatrix, she thought of snow. Flecks of white caught in raven hair, black orchids materializing out of thin air. She thought of gentle music and strong hands, visible breath in icy air expelled from blood red lips. She saw black eyes holding consuming fire, begging Hermione to surrender.

She thought of nothing but Bella for hours, sitting in front of her door. She thought of Bella until she fell asleep, praying that when she opened her eyes again her vision would fill with the flawless figure that ravished her every thought.

It felt like her eyes had only been shut a couple seconds when the sound of a door creaking open jerked her awake. She blinked blearily, her eyes adjusting to the darkness.

Her prayers had been answered. Bellatrix stood behind the open door, eyeing her with a mix of surprise and exasperation.

“Seriously?” The woman commented.

“Uh,” Hermione fought through the fog of sleep and got to her feet, “What time is it?”

Bellatrix rested her head against the doorframe to watch her, “Like, three in the morning,”

Hermione nodded and blinked dumbly at the woman, unable to remember what exactly it was she’d wanted to say. Bellatrix rolled her eyes and grabbed Hermione’s arm, pulling her into the room. The door clicked shut behind them and Bellatrix folded her arms and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“I…” Hermione wracked her brain, “Why are you avoiding me?”

Bella’s eyes flicked up and down her body, “Who says I’m avoiding you?”

Hermione sighed, rubbing her eyes, “Bella…don’t answer my questions with questions,”

“Why not?” Bellatrix asked. Hermione glared at the patronizing smirk on the woman’s face.

“Did you make other friends you like more?” Hermione asked, folding her arms over her stomach.

Bellatrix expelled a soft breath, “No,”

“Then do you just not like me anymore?” Hermione asked, her voice quivering.

Bellatrix’s gaze hardened at the question. She took a few short steps towards Hermione until they were a breath away from one another. Hermione dragged her eyes up Bella’s body from her bare feet, up her beautiful thin legs, bony knees, silver nightgown, full breasts barely covered by the flimsy cloth. All the way to her endless eyes.

“You think me not liking you is the problem?” Bellatrix demanded.

“Well,” Hermione shrugged, growing nervous at Bella’s intensity.

“I do…like you,” Bella wrinkled her nose like she thought the words were insufficient. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and Hermione struggled to keep her eyes on Bella’s.

“You’re all I have,” Bellatrix spat, like she hated the fact, “ _You_ are it for me. And you’re always storming off, leaving me behind every time I do something that isn’t perfect. Do you know how fucking frustrating that is?”

“I can’t excuse you torturing students!” Hermione snapped.

Bellatrix got in her face and said, “You didn’t hear what he was saying about you. Trust me, he deserved it,”

Hermione didn’t back down. She tilted her chin up to match Bella’s glare, “I can take care of myself,”

“Fine. Then get out,” Bellatrix said.

“What?” Hermione felt a pang in her chest. Why couldn’t any interaction with Bellatrix go the way she wanted?

“I said get out!” Bellatrix flung a hand out, motioning to the door, “Just fuck off like you always do,”

“No,”

Bellatrix blinked, “What did you say to me?”

“I said no,” Hermione repeated.

Bellatrix’s expression darkened, a cloud of anger passing over her face. Hermione stood her ground. No matter what Bella did, she was not leaving this room unless they were on good terms. Bellatrix saw the challenge in her eyes and stepped closer, forcing Hermione to step back.

“Where do you get off,” Bellatrix’s voice was dangerously low, “leaving when I want you to stay and staying when I want you to leave?”

She continued to advance on Hermione and Hermione continued to back away until her back hit the door. She jolted in surprise, nowhere to go. Bellatrix grinned slowly, like she’d cornered her prey.

“I don’t think you really want me to go,” Hermione said, her voice coming out shakier than she wanted.

“Oh yeah? Is that what you think?” Bellatrix tilted her head mockingly, “You think you know what I want?”

“Yes,” Hermione sighed out when Bellatrix raised a hand like she was going to touch her cheek.

Instead, the woman fisted a hand roughly in Hermione’s hair and _pulled._ Hermione gasped at the pain and felt a flood of moisture between her thigs.

“You don’t know a thing,” Bellatrix’s voice was breathy, “About what I want,”

She hissed her words out intentionally so Hermione could feel each syllable in the breath puffing out on her exposed neck. Hermione jerked her head lower, ignoring the pain of Bellatrix’s unrelenting grip to stare into her eyes.

“I think I know one thing you want,”

Hermione lunged forward and crashed their mouths together. It was wet and harsh and sloppy and Bella’s lips were frozen under her own. Hermione pulled back to gauge her reaction. All of Bella’s hard pretenses had slipped away, her eyes were black with lust and her lips were parted slightly, allowing her rapid breath to dispel over Hermione’s lips. The hand in Hermione’s hair tightened again and Bella brought their mouths back together.

The first thing Hermione did was suck Bella’s lower lip in between her own, running her tongue across it the way she’d fantasized. The dark witch let out a guttural noise and surged forward, slamming Hermione back against the door hard enough to knock the wind out of her. Hermione gasped and Bellatrix seized the opportunity to slip her tongue into her mouth. Bella’s expert tongue glided against her own and it shot liquid heat straight to Hermione’s core. Bellatrix withdrew her tongue in favor of nipping playfully at Hermione’s bottom lip.

The young witch groaned and her hips jerked forward, searching for friction. Bellatrix took the hint and dragged her free hand down Hermione’s body, brushing teasingly past her breast and over her hip. She reached her hand under her skirt to grasp Hermione’s bare thigh and lift it so her leg wrapped around her waist. Bellatrix ground her hips forward and Hermione gasped at the pressure. Needing oxygen, her head fell back against the door and she tightened her leg around Bella’s waist.

Bellatrix graciously allowed Hermione to regain her breath and focused her attention on the girl’s neck. She dragged her tongue hotly from the base of Hermione’s collar bone up to her jaw. Felling her pulse point thumping erratically Bellatrix pressed her lips against it appreciatively. Hermione brought a hand up to tangle in Bella’s curls and press her mouth closer. Bellatrix’s lips parted and she bit roughly at Hermione’s pulse.

Hermione hissed, not knowing if it was from pleasure or pain, no longer able to tell the difference. Bellatrix sucked hard on her pulse point and pushed her hand farther up Hermione’s skirt until she was roughly palming her ass and grinding her hips at the same time, creating the most wonderful friction.

Bellatrix pulled her mouth away from Hermione’s neck with a wet _pop_ and sighed something that sounded a lot like “ _mine_ ”.

Hermione lifted her head from the door and pulled Bella’s mouth back to her own. Bella’s hand left her hair and she dragged her nails across Hermione’s neck, stopping at the collar of her shirt.

“Tell. Me. What. You. Think. I. Want,” She said throatily between hot, rough kisses.

Hermione didn’t feel like making sense of her words. She place her other hand on Bella’s shoulder for leverage and lifted her other leg to join the other around the woman’s hips, forcing Bella to press her harder into the door to support her.

“Hermione,” Bellatrix growled, ceasing her assault and staring the younger witch down until she answered.

Hermione moaned, continuing to rub herself mindlessly against Bellatrix, “I think you want to _fuck_ me,”

Bellatrix smirked and with one sharp tug she ripped Hermione’s shirt open, buttons flying in different directions.

“Hold on to me,” Bellatrix commanded and stepped away from the door, bringing Hermione with her. Hermione wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck as she carried her to bed.

The two collapsed in a flurry of tangled arms and legs onto silk sheets. Hermione’s shirt was pulled from her body and Bellatrix immediately settled back between her thighs. The witch began pressing aggressive open mouthed kisses down Hermione’s neck and chest, sucking and nipping. Hermione tugged desperately at Bella’s nightgown, needing it out of the way. When Bellatrix ignored her, Hermione pulled her wand from where it was tucked into her skirt and tore the nightgown off with a spell, sending it flying across the room. Her wand clattered to the floor, forgotten once its purpose was served.

Bellatrix chuckled lowly against the spot she was sucking at the top of Hermione’s breast. Suddenly regaining her strength, Hermione twisted her hips and shoved Bella’s shoulders so the woman fell back against the bed, allowing Hermione to straddle her. Hermione gazed down at the woman, who hadn’t been wearing a thing under her nightgown. With her hands resting on Bella’s protruding ribs, she admired the woman’s full, shapely breasts in amazement. Her head bowed as if in worship and she lowered her mouth to kiss them. She took Bella’s perky, pink nipple delicately into her mouth and traced her tongue over it reverently. Her other hand slid up to mirror the action on the other breast with her fingers. Bella let out the softest noise of appreciation before she easily flipped Hermione back over.

“Grab the headboard,” Bellatrix ordered.

While Hermione obeyed, Bellatrix snatched her own wand from the nightstand and waved it at Hermione’s wrists. Ropes materialized and bound her wrists tightly to the bars of the headboard. Bellatrix gave her a wicked grin and abandoned her wand in favor of wrapping her hand around Hermione’s neck and kissing her again. Satisfied Hermione wouldn’t be able to top her again, Bellatrix moved away to pull Hermione’s skirt and panties down her legs in one swoop. She yanked the Gryffindor’s shoes off as well, leaving her clad only in knee high socks.

She grabbed Hermione’s knees and spread her legs, leaving her completely vulnerable to the woman’s hungry gaze.

“My, my,” Bellatrix drawled, “Is this all for me?”

Hermione moaned wantonly, arching her back, begging for attention.

“Answer me when I ask you a question,” Bellatrix snapped, causing a new rush of wetness to rush where Hermione needed her.

“It’s all for you. I’m so wet for you. I’m all yours, Bella,” Hermione cried.

They were the magic words. Bellatrix slid back between Hermione’s legs, which immediately came up to wrap around her waist and trap her there like she was afraid she’d leave again. Hermione’s slick wetness smeared across Bella’s stomach as she rocked her hips up, moaning embarrassingly loud at the skin on skin contact. She tugged uselessly against her restraints, wanting so badly to touch Bellatrix in return.

Bellatrix went back to biting at the soft skin of Hermione’s breasts. She pushed her bra up, out of the way and sucked hard on her nipple with no warning. Hermione yelled at the sensation. She had never gone this far with anyone and all of the new sensations were making her head spin, making all sensibility fly out the window. She was reduced to raw, animalistic desire. She didn’t care about a single thing in the world other than getting fucked hard by Bellatrix Black.

“Please...” she moaned, barely able to force the words out, “I need-”

Bellatrix continued to bite and suck harshly at her nipple, certainly leaving a mark. It fucking hurt and Hermione loved it. Every bite made her hips jerk up just enough for her to get contact against her aching center but it wasn’t enough.

Bellatrix was fumbling for something else at her nightstand and she pulled her hand back, having retrieved a knife.

Hermione groaned at the sight. _Please,_ she begged whatever higher power that may be listening, _please don’t let her kill me before she at least makes me cum._

Bellatrix laughed at her reaction and lowered the blade to Hermione’s chest. Hermione rutted her hips desperately against Bella, trying hopelessly to get herself off before the woman killed her.

But Bellatrix only slipped the knife under her bra strap and pulled, freeing it from Hermione’s chest. Hermione could hardly bring herself to be relieved that Bellatrix wasn’t trying to kill her because she felt like she’d die anyway if she didn’t get off.

“Tell me what you want, Hermione,” Bellatrix purred, pecking her panting mouth.

“Fuck me,” Hermione moaned, “I need you inside me,”

Bellatrix looked down her nose at the desperate girl, pretending to consider it, “Ask nicely,”

“Please fuck me,” Hermione begged.

Bellatrix tweaked Hermione’s nipple, making her gasp, “Tell me you’ll never walk away from me again,”

“I’ll never leave you Bella, I’ll never, ever leave you,” She chanted obediently, frantically, “I’ll never leave you, never…”

Bellatrix brought their mouths back together and slid her hand slowly down Hermione’s stomach. Hermione moved her mouth quickly against her, sucking on her lip just to have _some_ part of Bellatrix inside her.

As soon as Bellatrix’s hand touched short, coarse hair, she pulled her mouth away from Hermione and pinned her with a look. Hermione stared back into her eyes, gasping with anticipation. Bellatrix’s hand continued its descent and when those fingers finally brushed against Hermione’s clit, the girl’s eyes slammed shut and she threw her head back, losing herself in the sensation. Bella palmed her roughly and Hermione’s hips grinded up against her hand. Bella’s finger’s traced Hermione’s entrance teasingly and Hermione wanted to cry.

“Look at me,” Bellatrix hissed.

Hermione forced her eyes open, already having learned that obeying Bellatrix wrought rewards. Bellatrix’s eyes were hungry and overflowing with some unidentifiable emotion.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Bellatrix whispered.

Hermione nodded and Bellatrix pushed two fingers inside of her.

“Oh, _Bella,”_ Hermione sighed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as she tried to keep them open. Bellatrix released her from her order when she dipped back down to suck on Hermione’s neck. She wasted no time in setting a brutally fast past, pulling her fingers out and slamming them back in, each time her palm rubbing against Hermione’s clit.

“Fuck!” Hermione cried, lifting her hips to try and meet every one of Bella’s thrusts. The sensation of being filled and emptied again and again-it made Hermione’s mind go blank with pleasure.

Bellatrix pumped her fingers relentlessly, driving Hermione towards the edge. Hermione’s heels were digging into Bella’s back like she wanted the woman to become a permanent part of her-maybe she did. Maybe she already was.

Bellatrix angled her elbow so she could press the side of her hand into Hermione’s throat and continue to support herself at the same time. She pulled at Hermione’s earlobe with her teeth and watched the redness creep up Hermione’s throat where her airway was being constricted. She curled her fingers deep inside of her and released her neck at the same time. Hermione gasped for air.

There was an unbearable heat in Hermione’s lower stomach, bleeding straight into her core.

Bellatrix rubbed her fingers over that sweet spot inside of her and hissed into her ear, “Come now, Hermione,”

And again, Hermione obeyed.

Her vision went white and she clenched hard around Bellatrix’s fingers, which resumed their motion at a slower pace to drag out her orgasm for as long as possible.

Hermione had gone completely limp, helpless to do anything but let the waves of pleasure wrack her body. Her hips twitched when Bella pulled her fingers out and her head rolled to the side. She pressed her sweaty forehead against her arm, trying to steady herself.

She barely registered Bellatrix rolling off of her until her wrists were released. The first thing she did when she was free was blindly reach out for the woman, needing to feel her skin. She grasped Bella’s arms as she leaned back over her, patiently waiting for her to come back to her senses.

Her eyes opened to find Bellatrix watching her silently. Hermione pushed a few stubborn curls out of her face and Bellatrix let her. Her eyes wandered down Bella’s body and even in her state she felt another rush of desire.

Hermione’s hand left Bellatrix’s face and trailed down her body. She watched the woman’s face for any reaction or indication that she wanted her to stop. When Hermione’s hand brushed over her nipple there was a small hitch in her breath.

Her hand dipped lower, over the delicate planes of her stomach and at last reached slick folds. Bellatrix’s eyes fell shut, her eyelashes casting pretty shadows over pale cheekbones in the moonlight.

“Hm, all for me?” Hermione echoed Bella’s earlier words.

Bella’s eyes snapped open, any tenderness that may have existed evaporated and Hermione felt a thrill at what may happen next. She wasn’t surprised when Bellatrix’s slender fingers wrapped back around Hermione’s neck, their favorite resting place. The woman shifted, positioned her thighs on either side of Hermione’s hips all while the young witch continued to trace her fingers around the woman’s entrance.

Once Bellatrix was situated Hermione slipped two fingers into her and the woman just _sank_ into it. For a moment all Hermione could do was gaze in wonderment as the woman rolled her hips against her hand. Clothed, the woman was a force to be reckoned with, but here and now, completely and totally bare to her, Hermione saw her in a new light. She was all soft curves and sharp angles, glowing skin and tumbling hair.

The hand around Hermione’s throat twitched and she wasn’t quite being choked but just the threat of the woman’s hand resting there was doing something for Hermione. The small movement snapped her into motion and Hermione sat up, Bellatrix’s hand slipping from her neck and back into her hair. Hermione brought her mouth back to the woman’s breasts, all while Bellatrix continued to fuck herself on Hermione’s fingers.

Hermione worked her hand with every thrust of Bella’s hips, curling her fingers with every roll forward. Bella’s breasts swayed tantalizingly with every thrust and Hermione found it impossible to pull her attention away. She mirrored the woman’s actions on her breasts, sucking and biting with every intention of leaving a mark. She wanted to map galaxies across the woman’s skin over every new discovery.

Bella’s hand tightened roughly in Hermione’s hair when the girls palm brushed against her clit. Hermione’s head was pulled back, away from the woman’s breasts and Bellatrix leaned forward and sank her teeth into the spot where Hermione’s neck met her shoulder. The Gryffindor cried out and Bellatrix sped up her pace.

Hermione moved her unoccupied hand to Bellatrix’s back, digging her fingers into her shoulder and then dragging them down. Bellatrix threw her head back, tossing her curls over her shoulders and parting her lips. The scratch cause Bellatrix to moan for the first time since they began, high pitched and needy, the sound rivaling even her laughter in beauty.

Surging forward, Hermione attached her lips to Bella’s collarbone, sucking more marks into the woman’s skin. Bellatrix was too euphoric to care, her pace becoming erratic. Hermione slid her hand around from Bella’s back back to thumb roughly at her nipple and another small, wanting moan slipped out of Bella’s mouth as she neared the edge.

Hermione made it her life’s mission to draw out as many of those noises as she could before she met her demise. Her arm was aching and there were sharp pains shooting through her wrist where Bella was riding her unrelentingly but she knew the woman was close from the tightening around her fingers. Hermione dug her nails into Bella’s hips and helped impale her harder and harder on her fingers, ignoring the increased pain in her arm.

“Fuck yes,” Bellatrix gasped and with one final twist of Hermione’s hair, she clenched around the girl’s fingers and tumbled over the edge.

Her hips rolled languidly forward a few more times while Hermione pressed loving kisses along her collarbone and shoulder. When Bella’s hips stilled, her grip in Hermione’s hair loosened until she was only cradling her head against her.

Hermione withdrew her fingers and lifted her head from Bella’s shoulder so she could slip the digits into her mouth and taste her. Bellatrix tracked her every movement with hazy eyes, sliding her hand out of her hair to rub a finger along Hermione’s working jaw.

She pulled her fingers out of her mouth and leaned forward to kiss the woman watching her. Bella held her at bay.

“Turn around,” Bellatrix said hoarsely.

“What?”

“Turn around,” Bella repeated, “Put your hands on the top of the headboard,”

Hermione untangled herself from her lover to follow her command. She felt vulnerable, bent forward and exposed with her ass bared to the witch.

There were a few unbearable moments where Bellatrix wasn’t touching her, assaulted only by the cool air of the room. Then the woman was on her, grasping at her hips and pressing herself against Hermione’s backside. Hermione groaned and the contact and pushed back against her.

Bellatrix slipped both hands up Hermione’s sides to curl around her breasts, squeezing hard. Hermione gasped and rocked back again, feeling Bella’s breath rush out against her shoulder in response to the motion. One hand slid down Hermione’s stomach and plunged into her without warning. Hermione cried out, still oversensitive. The fingers withdrew and rubbed over her swollen clit, again and again until Hermione was panting and her thighs were shaking. Bella’s other hand came around to grab her by the hair and yank her head back, surging forward to nibble at her earlobe.

“You like that?” Bellatrix asked, voice taunting, “You like being fucked from behind?”

Hermione moaned her approval and Bellatrix dipped her fingers back inside. Bellatrix rocked her hips forward, pushing Hermione further onto her fingers and pleasuring herself at the same time. Bellatrix fucked her like that, rocking herself hard against Hermione’s backside with each pump of her fingers. Bellatrix’s other hand released Hermione’s hair and joined Hermione’s on the headboard, using the newfound leverage to grind herself harder and faster against her.

It took about half the time for them both to get to the edge as it had before. Hermione’s head was swimming with lust and elation at the witch finally having her way with her.

 _Why didn’t we do this sooner_? Was the one coherent thought that drifted through her mind.

The headboard was creaking each time they pushed forward and the sound of them fucking only made Hermione wetter.

“You belong to me, understand?” Bellatrix growled into her ear. Hermione nodded exuberantly and she sunk her teeth into her own arm to try to stop herself from screaming as Bellatrix dragged her to the edge of oblivion all over again. She felt Bellatrix sink her teeth into her shoulder once again as her thrusts became erratic and painfully rough.  Hermione knew Bellatrix came when she bit even harder into her, hard enough to draw blood.

Hermione cursed and was too blinded by ecstasy to be surprised that it was the pain that made her cum hard enough to see stars.

She missed Bella’s fingers the moment Bella removed them. The woman flopped onto her back with a satisfied sigh and Hermione sat back on her heels to observe the woman. Her eyes had already slipped shut and one arm stretched towards Hermione, waiting for her to join her. She had a smudge of Hermione’s blood on the corner of her mouth and Hermione really shouldn’t have found the image endearing.

She dragged her thumb over the spot of blood and Bella’s lips quirked up in a lazy smile. She had never looked so relaxed, so at peace. Hermione slid down the bed and curled up against her, tucking her head under her chin. Bella’s arm slipped around her shoulder and Hermione tangled their legs together, feeling an inherent need to be as close as possible.

Bella traced her finger lightly over the bite mark and Hermione thought it was likely to leave a scar. Unless she healed it, but she didn’t think she’d mind its presence.

They laid in the peaceful silence, Bellatrix tracing circles over Hermione’s bruises and Hermione listening to Bella’s soothing heartbeat. Hermione thought of how unbearable the normalcy of her life without Bellatrix had been, how painful it had been to be ignored by her. And now, after everything they’d shared that night she didn’t think she could endure being separated from her again.

“Bellatrix?” Hermione asked.

“Hmm?” Bella’s throat thrummed with the noise.

Hermione felt strangely vulnerable in the aftermath of what they’d done. She was comforted by the thought that in many ways this was a first time for Bellatrix as well. The woman had no recollection of having gone there with anyone before Hermione. Although she undoubtedly hadn’t behaved like it.

Hermione had certainly never gone there with anyone before, not even close and yet the moment their mouths had met it had all been out of her hands. Now they each possessed something of each other. She had been carried away by a tidal wave of desire, acting in ways she never had before but feeling like she’d unlocked a deeper part of herself. Bella reached deeper inside her than anyone had before, to depths Hermione didn’t know existed and drew them out. Being around her was thrilling and grounding all at once, a feeling Hermione never wanted to part with.

“Don’t disappear on me again, okay?” Hermione whispered.

Bellatrix’s hand stilled.

“Never,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would you believe me if I said I didn't intend for this to happen this chapter?


	8. Chapter 8

 

Hermione woke up to lips on her neck. She felt a rush of warmth as the memories of the night came rushing back to her. Bella’s lips ghosted over her bruised neck with tantalizing softness, a stark contrast to the heated roughness she’d touched her with before. Hermione brought a hand up to tangle in Bella’s hair, and Bellatrix pulled back to look at her.

“Since when are you up this early?” Hermione asked, sleep still lacing her voice.

Bellatrix frowned, “It’s nine,”

Hermione sat straight up, “Oh no,”

Hermione scrambled out of bed and searched frantically for her clothes. Bellatrix grumbled and settled back while Hermione wiggled back into her skirt and picked up her shirt and bra. Both of which were useless.

“Oh, dammit,” She whispered as the details of last night came rushing back; Bella ripping her shirt open, Bella wielding a knife centimeters from her chest. Hermione shook her head to snap herself out of it.

“Bella, can I borrow a shirt? You owe me one,” Hermione said, already heading for her dresser.

Bellatrix was feigning sleep. Hermione pulled out one of her white button ups and a cardigan that resembled her uniform well enough. It looked like she’d have to forgo a bra and panties as they were both totally useless.

“Are you coming to class with me?” Hermione asked.

Bellatrix cracked an eye open, “Maybe later,”

Hermione examined her, committing the swollen lips, messy hair and flushed cheeks to memory. Things at Hogwarts never seemed to stay peaceful for long and with Harry on the verge of a breakthrough with Dumbledore and a war on their doorstep, Hermione knew things could fall apart any day now. She found herself hoping desperately that she and Bella had a chance at making it out in one piece once it was all over.

She walked back to Bella’s bedside and bent over to kiss her before she left.

“I meant it, you know,” Hermione said, remaining close after she pulled away. Bella’s eyes had fallen shut but she knew she was listening, “I am yours,”

She scooped her wand back up and headed out, figuring she’d have to somehow make it through first period without her books.

She left the room in a jog and hurried to Defense Against the Dark Arts, tugging self-consciously at the hem of her skirt. This was also the first time she’d gone anywhere without underwear and it was not as thrilling as they made it seem in the muggle movies. It only made her paranoid that somehow a gust of wind would blow it up and…well, scar her forever.

Right before she entered the classroom she ran straight into Luna, coming around the corner from the other direction. Luna’s pale eyebrows shot up when she saw Hermione.

“Oh, hello, Luna. You running late as well?” Hermione asked, reaching for the door.

Luna grabbed her arm before she could open the door, “Hermione, no!”

“What? We’re already late enough,” Hermione said.

Luna pulled her wand and used it to motion to Hermione’s neck. She was grinning.

“Hermione…I don’t think you want to go in there until you let me heal your neck,”

Hermione realized what Luna meant and how close she’d been to revealing to the entire classroom what she’d been doing last night. She could’ve kissed Luna.

“Conceal them instead?” Hermione asked when Luna took aim.

She nodded, “Of course. You know, I had a feeling I should be late today,”

Hermione nodded and patted Luna’s arm appreciatively before they both entered the room.

Snape glowered at the two of them, “Oh, how gracious of the two of you to honor us with your presence. 10 points from both your houses,”

Hermione had expected as much. She took a seat next to Harry, who was staring at her strangely. Snape continued to drone on about nonverbal spells and all Hermione could think about was Bella wordlessly conjuring ropes to bind Hermione’s wrists to the bed.

“Somethings different about you,” Harry whispered, observing her suspiciously. Hermione held her breath, “You’re not taking notes,”

Hermione rubbed nervously at her bruised wrists, “Yes, I forgot my notebook,”

Harry frowned at her and Hermione pretended to focus her attention on Snape’s lecture. Ron was pointedly not paying her any attention from Harry’s other side and she really couldn’t bring herself to care.

“We’ll break into pairs and practice nonverbal jinxes,” Snape said.

“Harry,” Ron said.

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked around for other potential partners. Luna appeared at her side in a moment. She and Luna worked together the remainder of the period. She was grateful the girl didn’t ask any questions about Hermione’s bruises or judge her in any way for what she was doing.

Once class was over Harry and Ron left without her, something that was becoming a common trend. She tried not to let it sting, wanting to hold onto all of the pleasant feelings she’d left Bella’s room with. She waited until the classroom emptied and Snape began shooting her annoyed glances before she got up to leave, hoping no one would see her wandering the halls alone without her best friends.

Classes flew by that day. Hermione’s mind traced obsessively over the events of her night with Bellatrix, not able to completely focus on her lectures. She knew things had shifted since last night and she was helpless to do anything other than replay it over and over. Her thoughts traced fondly over the way Bella had needed to hear her say she’d never walk away again. Yes, she’d said a lot in the heat of the moment but she hadn’t said anything she didn’t mean.

She’d never be able to walk away from her again. She was bound to her now and no matter what the future held she didn’t see that changing.

The woman of her daydreams appeared next to Hermione in her third class of the day as if she’d conjured her from her imagination.

“Morning, darling,” Bella purred in her ear, lounging in the chair next to her.

“It’s three,” Hermione told her, smiling.

Bellatrix feigned surprise, “Is it? Appears I’ve overslept. I had a long night, you see,”

The lesson began with Hermione still grinning and Bellatrix very much not paying attention. She faced forward, resting her cheek in her palm, but her other hand reached out to trace over Hermione’s bare thigh under the table. Hermione was having enough trouble paying attention before but having Bella next to her made it impossible.

When the hour ended Hermione hadn’t retained any new information or taken any notes. She frowned at her blank notebook and glared at Bellatrix.

“I’m going to fail if you keep distracting me like this,” she said as students filtered out of the room.

Bella pouted, “Would you like me to stop distracting you?”

No, Hermione thought. Before she could say anything she noticed Harry standing in front of their desk, watching them with a strange look on his face.

“Oh, hello Harry,” Hermione said.

“Hermione,” Harry nodded, “Could I speak to you about something in private?”

Hermione looked at Bella, who blew a curl out of her face and rolled her eyes.

“I’ll see you in potions,” Hermione told her apologetically. Bellatrix left and Harry took the abandoned seat.

“Hermione, I’m not an idiot,” Harry began.

She immediately knew what he was referring to but she was reluctant to address it, “What do you mean?”

The boy looked extremely uncomfortable, “You and Bellatrix. You’re, um…you fancy each other,”

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, trying to detect any anger.

“I’m not mad,” Harry said, like he knew what she was looking for, “I can’t say I approve, but I suppose I can understand,”

“Really?” Hermione asked, incredulous.

Harry shrugged, “What you said before, about her not being the same person she was before? It makes sense. She faced Voldemort for you. Plus she’s brilliant, stubborn, and loyal. Not unlike you, ‘Mione. I can just…see why you’d like her,”

Hermione sat in stunned silence. Harry was truly an incredible person.

When she didn’t respond, Harry continued, “I think Ron will come around to see that eventually, too. I just hope your faith in her isn’t misplaced,”

“It isn’t,” Hermione said.

Harry nodded and patted her knee, “There was something else I wanted to tell you. I haven’t seen you much since you and Ron have been fighting, but a lot’s happened with Dumbledore. I know why Voldemort didn’t die when his curse rebounded,”

Hermione looked up at that. There was a solemn victory shining in her friend’s green eyes. Harry began telling her all she’d missed out on since she’d been wrapped up in Bellatrix. Harry was done with the Half-Blood Prince book after one of the curses written inside had gravely injured Draco. Bigger than that, harry had discovered Voldemort’s secret; Horcruxes.

By the end of his speech, Hermione had paled, “That’s horrible, Harry. Seven Horcruxes? That’s unheard of,”

Harry nodded, “I know. And Hermione, I’m almost sure Draco is going to pull something soon. I know you and Ron aren’t happy with each other, but you need each other right now. Dumbledore wants to see me for something important tonight and I need you both safe if anything goes wrong while I’m away,”

Harry pulled something out of his pocket and pressed it into her hand. A half-empty bottle of Felix Felicis. Hermione’s stomach flipped nervously. Harry must’ve felt strongly about this to leave something like that behind and she knew enough now to trust her friend’s feelings on these things. When harry thought something bad was about to happen, he was never wrong.

“Stay close to Ron tonight, okay? And if you really trust her, keep Bellatrix close as well,”

Hermione nodded and pocketed the vial, “You be safe too, Harry,”

The two students heard a noise by the door and looked over to see Dumbledore watching from the doorframe. He smiled when he saw them.

“Miss Granger, Mr. Potter,” he greeted them.

“Hello, Headmaster,” the students said at the same time.

“I have someone waiting in my office who’d like to speak to you, Hermione,” Dumbledore told her.

“Sir, I have Potions next,” Hermione protested, although she felt a nagging curiosity at who would want to talk to her.

“Professor Slughorn has been informed that you will not be attending today’s class. I’m sure Harry here will take extra notes for you, won’t you Harry?”

Harry nodded and the two stood, walking to Dumbledore and joining him in the hall.

“I’ll see you tonight, Harry,” Dumbledore said, leading Hermione in the opposite direction.

Dumbledore was cryptically silent the whole way to his office while Hermione’s mind raced to predict who would come to see her. This had to have something to do with Bellatrix. A relative, maybe? Someone who knew what happened to her memories? Hermione could only hope this wouldn’t have any impact on her relationship with the woman.

When they entered Dumbledore’s office, Hermione saw Tonks sitting in an armchair and another woman pacing behind his desk. Hermione felt a rush of surprise-she must’ve been right, this woman looked remarkably like Bella. Curly, dark brown hair, aristocratic features, dark eyes. She was a softer, lighter version of the woman Hermione knew. She stopped pacing when she saw them, straightening and eyeing Hermione like she was trying to figure her out in a single glance.

“Hermione, this is Andromeda Tonks,” Dumbledore introduced.

It didn’t take her long to connect the dots, “Bellatrix’s sister,”

Andromeda scoffed, remarkably similar to the way Bella would, “We were sisters once. Not anymore, she made sure of that,”

“Good to see you, Hermione,” Tonks gave Hermione an encouraging smile from where she lounged, reading Hermione’s stiff posture like a book. Hermione gave her a small, forced smile.

“Let’s all have a seat, shall we?” Dumbledore suggested, guiding Hermione over to his desk. He took his usual seat, Hermione and Andromeda took a seat in the chairs across from him. She was finding it hard to take her eyes off of Bella’s sister; the resemblance was striking but she could see there was something fundamentally different under the surface.

“You’re the one who’s been watching over Bellatrix?” Andromeda asked, analyzing Hermione just as harshly.

Hermione glanced at Dumbledore questioningly, needing to know what this was all about. When she didn’t respond, Dumbledore answered for her.

“Yes, Miss Granger has been charged with…rehabilitating Miss Black,”

“It was Mrs. Lestrange, last I checked,” Andromeda said.

Hermione spoke up, “That’s not who she is anymore. She doesn’t remember her husband, let alone feel any kind of connection to him or that name,”

Andromeda continued to stare at her, like she was searching for something. Hermione held her gaze defiantly, ready to defend the woman she’d come to know.

“Why are you here?” Hermione asked, when Andromeda only continued to frown at her.

“I’m here because my daughter told me Bellatrix was at your school, leading you all to believe she’s somehow been reformed,”

Hermione looked at Tonks, who was pointedly looking anywhere but at her, “And what makes you think she hasn’t changed? She has no memory of working for Voldemort, no memory of anything at all,”

“I doubt she’s changed because that woman has been a monster for so long it’s become who she is down to her very heart and soul. More than just her mind was corrupted, erasing her memory can’t remove the rottenness from her core,” Andromeda said disdainfully.

Hermione shook her head, adamant in her conviction, “You’re wrong,”

Andromeda looked offended, “You think you know her better than I do?”

“I think I know this version of her better than you, yes,” Hermione said.

Andromeda drew a deep breath and turned in her chair to face the Gryffindor fully, “you’re a muggle-born, are you not, Hermione?” When Hermione gave a hesitant nod, she continued, “Have you heard the story of what Bellatrix did when I fell in love with a muggle-born like yourself?”

Hermione shook her head, allowing the witch to continue even though she knew it wouldn’t affect how she felt about the woman now.

“I never had a chance to tell my parents myself that I planned to marry Ted. I decided to tell my sisters first, foolishly hoping they’d support me when the time to tell our parents came. Bellatrix lost her mind when I told her. I have never seen her act so insane. I had always thought that despite her occasional mood swings and the prejudices forced upon her by our parents, she’d love me enough to understand. I used to think that one of the only things Bellatrix understood was love and loyalty, but I was wrong.

The moment I told her she attacked me. She cursed me so I was immobile before destroying my bedroom while Cissy screamed in terror. I’d have screamed too if I could. She lit my bed on fire and rushed at me and I will never forget the look in her eyes then. She looked like a rabid animal, one that ought to be put down to end its madness. She told me I was a disgrace to her family, that I was no better than my mudblood fiancée. She told me if I didn’t leave the house now and never return, she’d leave me in that room to burn. She would’ve killed me, her own sister, because of who I’d fallen in love with. So I left that room, without saying goodbye to Cissy, without ever getting a chance to explain to my parents.

Bellatrix only understands blood-purity and torture. She never loved me and she has never loved anyone her entire life. Why would she start now? She is only loyal to someone as long as their beliefs line up with her own. That is how she’s always been, that is how she will always be. There is no spell on this earth that can reform such a monster, there are no spells to conjure a beating heart,”

Andromeda’s voice had gone cold. Tonks’s shoulders were slumped like she bore the burden as heavily as her mother did. Dumbledore only watched Hermione for a reaction.

She didn’t know how to feel. The woman Andromeda described was evil, heartless. It couldn’t have been the Bellatrix she knew now, but if she had been capable of that once at such a young age, who’s to she couldn’t end up that way again.

When Hermione was silent, Andromeda continued, “You think I can’t see how you feel about her? I saw enough from our school days to know what someone looks like under her spell, Hermione. She used to do things like this for fun; wrap people around her finger so she could tear them apart. I bet she makes you feel so special; like you’re the only person she cares about, like she’d kill anyone who came between you, like she’ll change for you. It isn’t true,”

Hermione’s stomach sank. It felt like the younger Black was pouring acid down her throat. The worst part of it all was how eerily similar she was to the woman she spoke of, right down to their voices. It wasn’t hard to imagine Bellatrix herself telling her these horrible things, smiling cruelly as her world came apart at a few simple words.

Only Andromeda wasn’t smiling. She only looked sad, concerned.

“I’m only telling you this because Dora likes you and she’s worried about you. When we heard that you’d taken a liking to her, when we heard how close the two of you were…”

Hermione looked up, her eyes burning with unshed tears, “Who told you all of this? How do you know anything about us?”

Tonks stood up, taking a few steps towards her, “Over Christmas break, Ron told me. He was worried…”

For whatever reason, that was what broke her. She wasn’t sure if it was because Ron was concerned about her or because Ron was talking about her private business behind her back, but it broke her heart all the same. She wiped furiously at the tears that spilled over her cheeks, holding back a sob in an attempt to hold onto a shred of dignity.

Tonks knelt in front of her and touched her wrist sympathetically. Hermione gasped reflexively at the pain the action brought before she could stop herself. Tonks’s brows furrowed and she grabbed Hermione’s arm before she could pull away and pushed her sleeve up, revealing the thick bruises Bella left.

Identical expressions of realization crashed over Tonks and Andromeda’s faces.

“Oh, Hermione, you didn’t…” Tonks murmured.

The shame and regret was unbearable now. It felt like the walls were crashing down around her. It was painful enough knowing Ron had gone behind her back, agonizing enough having the seeds of doubt planted by the woman who knew Bellatrix best, and now they had tainted her first time with Bellatrix by giving her those looks of pity and disappointment.

She was so sick of crying.

A noise from behind them startled everyone into awareness. Hermione turned around to see Bellatrix standing in the doorway, a murderous look in her eyes.

“What the hell did you do to her?” she shouted, taking one look at Hermione’s pale, tear streaked face.

Tonks stood up, automatically on the defensive. Andromeda stood up as well to fully face her sister drinking her in with a mix of caution and disbelief.

“Your sister here perhaps went a bit too far in telling Hermione details of your past, Miss Black,” Dumbledore explained sadly.

Bellatrix stormed forward, disregarding her niece and her sister completely to stroke Hermione’s hair and look down at her in concern. Hermione jerked away from her touch automatically and Bellatrix’s expression hardened.

“What’d they say to you, darling?” Bella asked.

Hermione could feel everyone watching her with pity, could feel Bellatrix’s concerned gaze burning into her and all she could do was wonder if it was sincere. She stood up when Bella reached for her again. She wouldn’t be able to think properly as long as Bellatrix was near her.

“I need to get away,” Hermione choked out, “Just leave me alone,”

She turned on her heel to flee the office. She heard a loud crash as she ran down the stone staircase.  

“What the fuck did you say to her?” Bellatrix’s scream chased her from the room as she disappeared from view.

Students looked at her like she was crazy as she barreled down the hall. She needed somewhere to cry in peace and think over everything that had been thrown at her, but what Harry told her was nagging at her. He’d be going to meet Dumbledore soon and he needed her to be with Ron right now. Torn between duty and her personal desires, she chose duty as always.

She found Ron napping on the couch in the common room. He jerked awake with a snort when she entered, like he could sense her anger the moment she entered the room.

“Hermione?” He asked when he saw her expression, “What-,”

“Shut up and listen to me, Ronald,” she snapped, “I know you went behind my back and told Tonks about Bellatrix and I, and that was absolutely not your place to do so. I know you think you did it because you’re concerned about me, but Bellatrix has never hurt me and I don’t believe she ever will,”

Hermione didn’t know she meant the words until they left her mouth. Screw what Andromeda said, Bellatrix was different now.

“I can forgive you for what an ass you’ve been if you at least try to accept her. Whether you do or not will not affect how I feel about her but I want you in my life, Ron. Bellatrix is a part of my life now and if you still want me in yours, you need to be okay with that. We need to stick together for Harry, we need each other,” Hermione said, “What do you say?”

She knew Ron would agree but she saw how hard it was for him to get the words out. Eventually he managed a tight nod, scooting over and patting the spot next to him. Hermione joined him on the couch, finally beginning to pull herself together.

“So Harry told you about his meeting with Dumbledore, yeah?” Ron asked.

“Yep. He thinks Draco’s going to try something tonight,”

She produced the vial of liquid luck from her pocket. Ron’s eyes lit up when he saw it, “He left it for us?”

Hermione set it on the coffee table in front of them and slumped back on the couch, giving into the exhaustion of the emotionally overwhelming night.

“Long day?” Ron asked, mirroring her posture.

“You have no idea,”

Ron chuckled, “Well, if Harry’s right and Draco is going to pull something tonight, the day is only going to get longer,”

Hermione groaned and Ron laughed. On the couch next to a crackling fire, the two found it easy to fall back into comfortable conversation, like the fight had never happened. And there was so much to catch up on. Ron gave her all the details of his break up with Lavender, his struggles to pass his classes without her help, and of the holiday spent at the Burrow. Apparently Death Eaters had attacked but were unsuccessful in drawing Harry out and unable to break through their barriers with everyone there to fight them off. She was quite offended Harry hadn’t told her about it.

She told Ron a bit about Bellatrix’s progress in her learning and spellcasting abilities but left out details on their personal relationship. There was a quiet sadness in Ron’s eyes that suggested he already knew, but she wasn’t sure this would ever be something they could talk openly about.

Time flew by as they caught up. Before they knew it the sun had fallen and nothing had happened.

“We should go out, check the castle in case anything goes down,” Ron suggested.

Hermione agreed and the two got up to leave the common room. The halls were already fairly deserted, as the last class would’ve ended over an hour ago.

“Where do we start?” Ron asked.

“We should go to Dumbledore’s office, see if Bella’s still over there somewhere,” Hermione said, a little worried about how she’d left things.

Ron grudgingly agreed and they headed over, checking every hallway and open classroom along the way. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but Hermione could feel something in the air, something…dark.

To her disappointment his office was empty.

“What happened in here?” Ron exclaimed, eyes running over the broken vials and turned over chairs.

Hermione shook her head, “Nothing happened to Dumbledore. Bellatrix’s sister, Tonks’s mother, showed up and things got a little ugly,”  

Ron had the decency to look guilty, “I suppose that’s a bit my fault,”

Hermione didn’t respond, leaving the office feeling heavier than before. Bellatrix had lost her mind again and she hadn’t been there to comfort her. The woman probably thought she hated her after talking to Andromeda, she’d given her every reason to think that with how she’d ran from her.

Please be okay.

“I don’t know where to look next,” Hermione said, trying to keep her emotions from taking over.

Ron looked at her, sympathy creeping into his eyes, “Alright, if Draco’s going to cause problems the threat has to come from the outside. He can’t do anything by himself, right? Maybe he’s somehow figured out how to create a temporary breach in our perimeter-,”

Hermione was already jogging down the staircase. It was better than anything she could come up with in her current state. The longer she went without seeing her, knowing she was okay, the worse it was going to get. She kept thinking of how she promised she wouldn’t leave her and the second things got hard, Bellatrix thought that’s exactly what she did.

Hermione stumbled outside and frantically searched for anything out of the ordinary. Since the sun had gone down it was difficult to see anything at all. Ron staggered out behind her, breathing heavily from trying to keep up with her.

“See anything?” He asked.

“No,” Hermione said, feeling the panic rise, hot and unbidden inside her chest.

Ron cast Lumos but the small ball of light had little effect on the night, which only swallowed it up. Not knowing what else to do, Hermione jogged out further into the night.

“Bella!” She called out, “Bellatrix!”

“Hermione,” Ron hissed, “Keep it down. Who knows what Draco’s up to,”

He’s right, Hermione thought irritably, I must really be losing it if Ron is thinking more logically than I am.

She took a few steadying breaths and scanned the horizon again. She turned in a circle and let her head hang back in exasperation. That’s when she saw it.

“Ron, oh my god, look,”

Ron turned to look where she pointed above the astronomy tower.

“Oh no,” Ron said.

There was a massive Dark Mark hanging above the tower. The gaping skull and curling snake shot a cold feeling of dread through Hermione.

“We have to find her,” Hermione breathed, “now,”

Hermione moved to go back inside but Ron grabbed her arm.

“Wait, Hermione. I think there’s someone up there,”

Hermione stepped back and squinted at the tower. It was very far away but she could make out a fleck of white moving up there, by the railing. She couldn’t quite make out who it was or what was going on, but there was definitely someone up there.

“We should warn someone,” Hermione started to say, “Ron, come on-,”

The two rushed back inside. The second the door closed behind them they heard a commotion echoing down the halls. They ran forward, following the noise. When they rounded the corner into the courtyard they saw Tonks and Andromeda fighting three masked Death Eaters side by side.

Tonks looked up at her and Ron when they entered the courtyard and her moment of distraction got her stunned by one of the Death Eaters. Without hesitating, Hermione drew her own wand and sent the middle Death Eater flying. He wacked his head on a stone bench and crumpled, unconscious.

The Death Eater on the left, the one not still dueling Andromeda, turned to face them. Operating in sync, she and Ron began firing off spells. Every time the Death Eater attacked, Hermione would throw up a shield at the same time Ron fired a curse. Even the skilled Death Eater couldn’t keep up.

Before they could beat him, however, two more Death Eaters burst into the courtyard. Before either of them could react, one of them stunned Ron. Hermione felt a pang of uncertainty. It was too late to run now, they had her backed into a pillar and she doubted just her and Andromeda would be able to take down four Death Eaters.

The three men all cast curses at Hermione simultaneously. Hermione yelled and put up as strong a block as she could manage but even though it went up in time, the combined force of three spells propelled her back into the pillar. She hit her head hard on the stone and slumped to the floor.  

One of them laughed and she felt a crushing wave of panic.

This can’t really be it, Hermione raised her wand, and even on the ground she was unwilling to show her fear. This can’t be over.

“Stupefy,” She cried uselessly. They blocked it effortlessly and continued to advance, wanting to play with her, increase her fear.

It was a mistake.

From somewhere behind her, a flash of light exploded and one of the Death Eaters went down like a rock. The remaining two peered into the shadows behind her and flung a spell out blindly, connecting with nothing. One of the men pointed his wand back at Hermione.

“Petrificus-,”

Before he could finish, another flash of light sent him falling backwards as well, letting out a scream of pain.

Hermione heard maniacal laughter coming from behind her and she felt a swell of joy. She scrambled to her feet, grinning with newfound confidence. Andromeda had won her duel and pointed her wand at the remaining Death Eater.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Bellatrix creep out from the darkness.

“I’d run if I were you,” She cackled.

The Death Eater swung his wand wildly between the three women. It had fallen silent but for his heavy breathing.

“Boo!” Bellatrix screeched suddenly and the man screamed, turned heel and fled from the courtyard.

“I think that was Rowle,” Andromeda commented lightly, kneeling to check on her daughter.

Hermione dropped her arm and threw herself at Bellatrix. The woman stumbled back but managed to catch her around the waist, sighing into her hair.

“I’m so sorry I ran off like that,” Hermione cried.

Bellatrix chuckled and hugged her hard enough for Hermione to lose her breath.

“Don’t care,” she said, “as long as you’re here now,”

Hermione pulled away, remembering the figure she saw in the tower, “We have to go. Andromeda, could you make sure Ron is okay too?”

Andromeda eyed the unconscious ginger with disdain, “If I must,”

Hermione made a brake for the Astronomy Tower, pulling Bella behind her. The stairs took them way too long and Hermione thought she was going to throw up by the time they were high up enough to hear voices. They’d stumbled onto more fighting in the stairwell. Hermione recognized Remus along with some Hogwarts students amongst the fighting, and they were holding their own quite well.

“I’ll help here,” Bella said, giving Hermione a soft push forward, “get through the crown and to the tower,”

Hermione nodded thankfully and Bellatrix set herself on clearing a path for her to get through.

“Locomotor Mortis,” Bellatrix shouted, hitting a Death Eater square in the chest the moment he looked at Hermione. His legs froze mid step and he went toppling down the stairs.

Hermione rushed forward, shoving her way through the throngs of fighting students and Death Eaters. She was almost to the top.

Neville was fighting a Death Eater standing by the barricade preventing them from getting to the top of the tower. The top of the tower was one more flight up. She jumped in next to Neville and their combined determination took him out in seconds.

“Thanks, Hermione,” Neville smiled at her for the first time that year.

She nodded at him and together they turned to face the barricade. They heard a door crack open from farther up and she and Neville braced for whatever was coming.

More Death Eaters came flying around the corner and to Hermione’s horror, Snape and Draco were at the front. Hermione was too shocked to do anything at first, and Snape only shouldered past her, knocking her aside.

The Death Eaters behind them marched past her without sparing her a glance. She watched as they only fired curses at those who were standing in their way, seeming intent only on getting out of the castle now. Moments later, Harry came barreling around the corner, running right into Hermione as she tried to get up.

“Harry! What is it, what’s happened?”

Harry was ashen and sweaty, his eyes bloodshot and clouded with rage. He pushed right past her without a word, running after Snape and the others. Hermione ran after him, struggling to keep up as he angrily pushed through the crowd of duelers like they were nothing. She had never seen him like this.

As she passed her, Hermione grabbed Bellatrix’s arm to bring her with him while she chased after Harry.

“What’s his issue?” Bellatrix asked, referring to Harry.

Harry and the Death Eaters had all broken into a run and Hermione picked up her pace to try and keep them in sight.

“I don’t know,” she panted, exhausted from all the running around, “Something horrible must’ve happened up there,”

She thought of the white shape she’d seen from outside, near the edge of the tower and had a horrible feeling she already knew what had happened.

There was dust clouding her vision in the hall at the bottom of the staircase and even more fighting had broken out since they’d passed by before. Hermione saw a flash of red hair, Ginny, as she battled another wizard. A curse hit the man she was dueling and Hermione looked to where it came from and saw Harry disappearing around the corner. She realized too late that Bellatrix had spotted him before her and rushed ahead after him.

Groaning, Hermione took off after the both of them. The fighting was completely insane; she had to duck to avoid a brick flying inexplicably past her head.

When she finally burst out of the castle, back where all this running had begun, she could make out Bella’s dark curls bouncing ahead of her as she shouted something at Harry. There was a burst of red as Hagrid’s hut went up in flames. Hermione could see Bellatrix turn her head to look at it then-

A shape hurled itself at Bellatrix and the two crashed to the ground. Fenrir, Hermione realized as she got closer. A kick of adrenalin had her sprinting forward, as she saw Fenrir’s teeth glinting in the light of the fire.

“Stupify!” Hermione yelled. Fenrir was catapulted off of Bellatrix before he could rip her throat out. Hermione towered protectively over her now and before Fenrir could recover she shouted again.

“ _Confringo_!”

Fenrir gave a horrible, guttural scream as he burst into flames. He scrambled away on all fours to where the other Death Eaters were running, crying for help.

Hermione bent down next to Bella, searching for wounds. Hermione noticed with horror the gash marks across Bellatrix’s side, blood seeping through her dark shirt and onto the grass.

“Damn him,” Hermione whispered.

Bellatrix pushed herself up on her elbows with a wince, “It’s not bad,” she rasped, “they’re not deep. Go after Harry, Hermione, before he gets himself killed,”

Bellatrix looked at her like she knew that’s what she needed to do. She still looked strong, there was still color in her cheeks and ferocity in her eyes and Hermione knew she was telling the truth. Hermione squeezed her shoulder and got up to run after Harry.

When she reached him she saw Snape’s dark form bent over him, saying something too quietly for Hermione to hear.

“Get away from him!” Hermione said. Snape looked up, and she’d snagged the attention of two similar looking Death Eaters standing nearby as well. The both raised their wands to Hermione but Snape raised a hand to stop them.

“No!” He said, “It’s time to go,”

When the three turned and started running again, Hermione knelt next to Harry who was reaching for his wand, clearly in immense pain.

“Harry, stop,” she whispered, laying a soothing hand on his arm, “There’s too many, we have to let them go,”

“He killed him,” Harry cried, and the pain in his voice was unbearable, “Snape killed Dumbledore. I _have_ to stop him!”

Hermione a wave of despair at the news but logic still won out, “We can’t right now Harry, but we’ll get another chance. First we need to live to see that other chance, alright?”

There were tears lacing her voice and her shoulders trembled with exhaustion. A hand clasped her shoulder, steadying her and she glanced up to see Bellatrix, somehow on her feet and glowering down at them. She rested heavily on Hermione, and she knew the woman was using her as a crutch more than she was comforting her.

“Pull yourself together, Potter,” Bellatrix said, her voice cold, “Take comfort in the knowledge that we’ll avenge that Headmaster of yours. You don’t screw over your people the way Snape and that sniveling nephew of mine did and not get what’s coming for you. They’ll get what they deserve, I’ll make sure of it,”

Hermione looked up at Bellatrix, who was watching the spot where Snape and the others disapparated with bloodlust in her eyes. Hermione marveled at how they’d gotten here, with Bellatrix making chilling declarations of vengeance against the side she used to fight for.

The thirst in her eyes reminded Hermione exactly of the way she’d stared at her the first time she’d seen the woman in the Department of Mysteries.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: If you’re fans of angst just hang in there with me a little longer and I promise there’s no shortage of it coming. Also, who noticed Hermione endured this entire chapter without any underwear on? Girl deserves an award. I love love love all your comments as always!


	9. Chapter 9

The last thing Hermione ever thought she'd see was Bellatrix Black standing in Harry Potter's living room surrounded by members of the Order. The woman was skulking in the doorway, holding her own in a staring contest against Mad-Eye, Tonks, Kingsley, Remus, Bill and Fleur. Hagrid was decidedly not looking at her, hunched in a corner and avoiding the witch's intimidating stare. Fred and George were visibly amused with the entire situation, and she could hardly blame them.

"You're absolutely _sure_ we can trust her, Harry?" Remus asked, looking unconvinced.

Harry straightened and crossed his arms, "Hermione trusts her and so do I,"

Hermione gave him a small smile and glanced at Bella to see her reaction. Her eyes had settled on Harry and softened almost indiscernibly. Hermione loped her arm through Bella's and took a protective step closer. With her hand pressed against Bella's side, she could feel the bandages on her ribs through her shirt. Bellatrix had been under-exaggerating the extent of her wounds from Fenrir that night. Madame Pomfrey had slaved over her for weeks to keep her from bleeding out or from contracting any wolfy after effects. Even after all that work, Pomfrey hadn't been completely certain that Bella would be without any influence during the full moon.

Hermione held Bella's arm a little tighter as she remembered how hard it had been to leave the unconscious witch to go to Dumbledore's funeral, and again to go back home and erase her parent's memories. She couldn't help but hope against all odds that whoever had done the same to Bellatrix had possessed similar good intentions as Hermione did for her parents.

"Right, as I was saying," Moody continued, "Everyone drink up, but be warned it tastes like Goblin piss,"

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose at Hermione as she transformed into her friend.

"Stop it," Hermione said, hiding her face against Bella's shoulder.

She felt Bella's shoulders shake with laughter, "you want me to tell you you're still beautiful? Fine. I actually fancy you better this way,"

Hermione shoved her shoulder lightly, careful not to hurt her. Bellatrix just continued to chuckle at her while she went to change, until there were seven identical Harry's in the room.

She and Bellatrix would be flying on a Thestral. Hermione was intrigued to find that Bellatrix could still see it, even though she had no memory of witnessing a death.

"They're beautiful," Bellatrix said, approaching the creature to get a better look at its face. As she approached, the Thestral tossed its mane and dragged a hoof across the asphalt. Bellatrix slowly raised a hand and everyone was surprised to see the creature allowed her to stroke its snout.

"Of course she'd get along with the creepy death horse," Ron commented from behind.

Hermione smiled. He had a point, the two did seem to get along.

Moody's booming voice interrupted the moment, "All right everyone, time to go,"

Bellatrix mounted the Thestral with ease and held out a hand to Hermione. She helped her slide into the spot in front of her, where she would be shielded the most; her front protected by the Thestral's head and her back by Bella's body.

"On the count of three!" Moody said.

"One,"

Bella wrapped her arms around her waist and gripped the Thestral's mane. They fit together seamlessly, the world clicked into place every time Bellatrix was wrapped around her.

"Two,"

"Stay low," Bellatrix whispered.

"Three!"

With a particularly loud screech, the Thestral lurched forward and in a few steps they were off. Hermione's stomach flipped anxiously, the way it did whenever she would fly on her broom. She isn't fond of flying that way either, but this is even worse. She was completely out of control.

They climbed higher and higher until they breached the storm clouds above them and lost sight of their companions. Lightning flashed, reflecting off the clouds around them and Hermione felt an uncertain twinge in her stomach. Something felt off. Bellatrix must've felt it too, for her arms tightened protectively around Hermione's waist. There was another flash, and it was certainly not lightning.

Was that a scream?

Bellatrix shifted, pulling her wand out of her sleeve. Someone was up there with them.

A black pillar of smoke hurdled by them and Hermione knew they Death Eaters found them. Bellatrix threw a jet of red light towards the shape but missed by inches. Hermione drew her own wand to help, tightening her thighs around her mount to keep herself steady.

Three more dark shapes came billowing out of the clouds towards them. Instead of trying to fight their way through, Hermione leaned forward on the Thestral, willing it to understand what she wanted it to do.

The Thestral followed her direction and abruptly dove down low, dropping out of the clouds and away from the Death Eaters.

"Fuck," Bellatrix growled directly into her ear. Hermione had to remind herself that now was _not_ the time to be responding to Bella's angry, husky voice.

Hermione chanced a glance over her shoulder to see the Death Eaters were still following. Bellatrix twisted around to fire another curse off, and managed to knock one right out of the air. Hermione tugged on the mane and the Thestral flew impossibly faster, the wind whipping painfully against the young witch's face.

It was difficult to keep her eyes open through the high wind speed. Hermione blinked hard, trying to focus, and suddenly a masked Death Eater flew up to their side and pointed his wand. A jet of green light came hurtling towards her and she felt Bellatrix roughly shove her down just in time for them to avoid it.

Hermione blocked his next curse with _Protego,_ and Bellatrix disarmed him before he could retaliate. Hermione sighed in relief when they left him behind. They were hurdling over the countryside now and if she squinted, she could see the Burrow in the distance. They were almost safe.

There was a great explosion of green and red light up ahead. An _expelliarmus_ that strong could only come from Harry. She watched as the red crept towards the green, demolishing it until, with a flash, both streams of light vanished. _Harry is safe!_

The Thestral jerked and gave a horrible screech, cutting through the moment of quiet. She felt the creature go limp underneath them and it began plunging towards the ground. Bellatrix pressed her down so her face was against its mane, keeping them tethered to it. Hermione had just enough time to cast a spell to break their fall and not kill and of them.

The two witches rolled off the limp Thestral. Hermione noticed its chest still rose and fell. She barely had a second to be relieved they were all still alive before one by one, five pillars of smoke hit the ground in front of them and revealed an imposing group of Death Eaters who had them surrounded.

Bellatrix and Hermione scrambled to their feet and stood back to back. They were in a clearing in the marshland outside the Burrow, so close but not close enough for it to matter. Hermione could see the roof of the burrow above the towering grass that surrounded them.

"Who do we have here?" A man said, a voice she didn't recognize.

"Why, it's my sister in law! And who is that with her?" said Rabastan Lestrange

Hermione could feel her face changing, knew the effects were beginning to fade.

"My money's on the mudblood bitch she's shagging," Another man snarled.

"I'm with Travers," Rabastan laughed, "What's it like, screwing a mudblood? I bet she likes it real _dirty,_ doesn't she Bella?"

Instead of responding Bellatrix threw her wand up faster than lightning and engaged him in a duel. Travers and the other three Death Eaters took their cues to attack. Hermione had no room to go on the offensive, all she could hope for was to put up a strong enough defense.

"She better than my brother in the sack?" Rabastan's taunting voiced carried through the fighting, "Oh wait, you wouldn't remember,"

Hermione didn't have the room to take anything he was saying to heart but she could feel the rage coming from Bellatrix in waves. It was stupid of him to provoke her, Hermione had learned herself how much more powerful the witch became when she was angry.

She was already getting exhausted. She threw up shield after shield as the other three wizards focused all their efforts on her. Attempting to duel three wizards at once was absurd, impossible, but she found herself doing it all the same. She drew strength from Bellatrix's presence, knew the witch would have her back in this. The polyjuice potion had worn off completely now, Hermione knew from the hair flying around her face with every blocking spell.

"Looks like I was right!" Rabastan continued loudly, "Hey, mudblood! If Bella here isn't satisfying you, send me an owl! I'll make you scream!"

Bellatrix let out an animalistic growl and overpowered him, catapulting him backwards into the grass. Two Death Eaters took his place in attacking her, taking the heat off of Hermione. It wasn't enough. She was fatigued from holding the three wizards at bay and facing just one now felt just as unmanageable in her state.

The witch behind her threw out spells viscously, giving out a yell with each curse. With her momentum, if Hermione just held her own a little while longer, they may actually make it out of there alive.

"Come on, Bellatrix," another voice said, "Give up this charade and come back to us! Your sister misses you, your husband misses you. Don't you miss the Dark Lord? I always did think you had a thing for him. Perhaps he'd fuck you as a reward for coming home!"

That made Hermione falter out of pure disgust and possessiveness. That one moment of distraction was enough and Hermione realized that maybe angering Bellatrix wasn't their goal at all. They distracted her for one second, long enough for the Death Eater in front of her to sneak through her defenses _._

The curse hit her in the center of her chest and hurt unlike anything she'd ever experienced. It was like being ran through with multiple daggers all at once on top of swallowing acid. All her senses shattered so that all she could feel was the horrendous agony. The world around her jerked and she collapsed as her body seized and convulsed on the ground. Some corner of her mind registered Bellatrix kneeling over her, yelling something, her beautiful face outmatching the night sky above her.

She couldn't hear what she was saying. There was some horrible noise blocking out her voice. _I'm screaming,_ Hermione realized.

The pain was mind-numbing, unbearable. She was being ripped apart so excruciatingly she screamed for it to end.

 _Bellatrix,_ she thought wildly, _make it stop, please._ She couldn't get a word out. All she could do was scream.

Bellatrix's face changed into an expression of intemperate insanity she'd never seen before. She bared her teeth and threw up her wand and a blast of orange light blinded her. The pain stopped.

Hermione shook uncontrollably and tried to bring herself back to reality by focusing on Bellatrix's hand pressing against her collarbone, on the nails digging into her flesh. The slight sting was a familiar pain, a pain she welcomed, and it brought her back.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. Something was burning, the grass around them and something else, something foul. Then she heard the screaming, the screaming that wasn't hers this time. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw Bellatrix's wild face, tears streaming down her sharp cheeks and fire flaring in her eyes. Actual fire, Hermione gathered. They were surrounded by it. Bellatrix waved her wand, taming it and keeping it at bay. Not only had the witch produced fiendfyre, but she was managing to control it.

The display of power was unimaginable. Fiendfyre was supposed to be untamable, an unimaginable force of destruction. She supposed it made sense that someone who shared those qualities would be able to harness its power.

Hermione shifted and cried out as pain shot through her torso. The curse, whatever it was, had physically injured her. Bellatrix glanced down at her and shook her head, telling her with her eyes not to move. Then she turned her fierce gaze back to the fire around them. Hermione lulled her head to the side to follow Bellatrix's line of sight and then she saw them. The bodies.

All of the Death Eaters that attacked them were dead, their charred bodies still aflame. There was one still alive, screaming and writhing on the ground the way Hermione had as the flames devoured him. Hermione felt a rush of horror even through the fog of pain. The flames roared and pulsed threateningly around them, like it had a heartbeat. It was close enough to tower around them and she didn't know if she should feel threatened or protected; much like she'd felt with Bellatrix, in the beginning.

She should have felt the heat, Hermione noticed. She didn't; all she felt was cold, creeping up from her fingers and toes. It reminded her of Bellatrix by the lake as they sat in the snow. How beautiful she'd looked with snowflakes in her hair. Nearly as stunning as she looked surrounded by fire filled with bloodlust and rage. With tremendous effort she turned her head back to look at the witch bent over her. If this was the end, she wanted Bellatrix to be the last thing she saw.

 _I love her,_ Hermione understood, right before everything went black.

* * *

When Hermione awoke her surroundings could not have been more different than they had been before she lost consciousness. Instead of burning, she woke to the smell of a pie baking. Instead of hard soil under her back and Bellatrix's nails digging into her skin, she felt only soft linin.

_Bella._

The moment the name entered her mind Hermione's eyes flew open. They'd made it to the Burrow through all of the fire and death. She looked around and identified her surroundings as Ginny's bedroom. And she was alone.

She sat up and hissed as dull shocks of pain shot through her body. She slowly lifted up the silk nightshirt she was in and saw her torso wrapped in bandages, small amounts of blood seeping through. Her lower lip trembled at the sight and she couldn't help but hope the curse didn't scar her. She already felt so inadequate next to Bellatrix, she didn't need marred skin to worry about on top of that.

Pushing through the pain, Hermione got to her feet and waited for the world to settle around her, for her head to stop spinning. She could hear voices in the hall. Bella's she recognized immediately, and Tonks she recognized next. Giving in to her curiosity, she pressed her ear against the door.

"-Not plausible," Tonks was saying, "I understand your anger, but you can't go and kill an entire army on your own,"

"Why the hell not?" Bellatrix hissed in response, "That blasted man and his minions have done nothing but nearly kill us. My own bloody _nephew_ poisoned me, my ex-husband and his friends attacked us in the forest, that hideous mutt mauled me, and now Hermione is nearly killed by those fucking animals. I've had _enough_ of this. It's just going to go on and on until they succeed unless I kill them first,"

Bellatrix was still in one of her moods, that much was easy to discern. Hermione could hear her boots clicking against the wood floor as she paced and her voice was low as she practically spat each syllable at her niece.

"I understand your pain," Nymphadora reasoned, "I know it's hard, but you're needed here-,"

" _Am I?_ All you lot do is stare at me like I'm going to snap any minute. When I carried Hermione to this bloody shack of a place you all jumped on me, ready to pin the betrayal on me. _After everything I've done for you?"_

"Don't pretend you're doing any of this for anyone except Hermione," Tonks said, "Your loyalties lie with her and no one else,"

Bellatrix scoffed, "Oh, what difference does that make? No one here will ever accept me and as long as that's the case I'm of no use to you here. All I can do now is take the fight straight to Voldemort and kill as much of his army as I can before they kill me. Before they can kill her. I cannot allow that, do you understand _that_?"

There was a struggle as Bellatrix pushed her way past Tonks and Hermione flung the door open and stumbled into the hall. Bellatrix was about to go down the stairs when Hermione's voice made her freeze.

"Bella…? Are you leaving me?" her head spun from trying to stand on her own. She reached a hand out to steady herself on the wall but the world was moving again and she was going to fall…

A pair of arms wrapped around her before she could collapse and her senses were invaded with the smell of smoke and pine. Bellatrix held her upright with such tenderness as she tried to avoid reopening her wounds.

"Don't leave," Hermione sighed into her shoulder. She felt strange, her tongue felt heavy and every movement felt as though it was made underwater with exaggerated slowness.

"You shouldn't be up, love," Bellatrix said, the anger completely gone from her voice, "They gave you something to calm you and help you sleep. Calming drought and some muggle pain killer Arthur had. Come now, let's get you back to bed,"

Bellatrix guided her back into the bedroom and Hermione caught a last glimpse of Tonks watching them. Bella set her back down on the bed and turned to leave, avoiding eye contact. In her state, Hermione barely managed to catch the woman's delicate wrist.

"Don't," Hermione whined, "don't leave me,"

Bella blew out a breath, tossing that stubborn curl out of her face. She knelt in front of Hermione and looked up at her from hooded eyelids. Now that she was in reach, Hermione traced her fingertips over her cheekbones.

"What good am I here? No one wants me here, no one trusts me," Hermione started to shake her head but Bella continued, "All I'm good for is killing. It's what I've always been good at and clearly the skill remains. It's what I ought to go out doing-,"

Hermione put a finger over Bella's lips and shushed her. Bellatrix blinked at her, offended.

"You're good for me. _I_ trust you. You're good at so much more than killing, Bella, do you really need me to tell you that?"

Bellatrix dropped her eyes again as if the praise was hard to hear. She moved to stand and fearing she would try to leave again Hermione grabbed her shoulders and dragged her onto the bed. Bellatrix let out a soft noise of surprise and before she could right herself, the Gryffindor scrambled on top of her, straddling her to prevent her from leaving.

Her wounds were screaming in protest but Bellatrix's sudden look of vulnerability was enough to distract her from the pain.

"You can't leave me now. I don't know what I'd do without you…I can't lose you, Bella," Hermione bent down, burrowing her face in Bella's neck and peppering kisses along the tender skin.

Bella's pulse was fluttering erratically under her lips and Hermione trembled at the discovery. She felt heavy and weak, like she was moments from falling apart and as if she were reading her mind, Bellatrix's arms encircled her and brought them together.

"I'm yours, remember? And you're mine. We can't live without each other," Hermione sobbed.

Bella's hand brushed her cheek and pulled her mouth to her own, their lips sliding hotly together. Hermione lost herself in the sensation, in the desire to make it go on forever. Hermione shifted in Bellatrix's lap and her lip slid between the woman's teeth. Bellatrix nipped playfully and it would've made Hermione laugh if she wasn't so tired.

Bellatrix pulled back with concerned frown. Hermione pouted.

"You're bleeding," Bellatrix said. Gently, she rolled Hermione onto her back and pulled her shirt up to examine her bandages, "I should go get Molly. I'm no good-,"

Hermione grabbed her shoulder before she could go, "No. You can heal me, I know you know how,"

Doubt was a foreign expression on Bella's face. Hermione nearly dying had cracked the woman open and now she could be read like a book. Her every thought flitted across her face; she believed herself made for killing, not healing.

"I trust you," Hermione repeated.

Bellatrix's expression hardened and she drew her wand. There was a slight tremor in her hand as it hovered over Hermione's ribs, an indication of how terrified she was to cause her any more harm. She steadied herself and began murmuring spells, pouring all her tenderness into the magic. Hermione sighed heavily as some of the pain was alleviated and slipped easily back into unconsciousness, Bellatrix's sweet voice pursuing her into the darkness.

* * *

Hermione didn't know how long she passed in and out of consciousness. She knew only that Bellatrix was there for every moment, never again attempting to leave. The first time she woke it was dark still and Bellatrix was lounging in the chair by the bed, reading one of Ginny's books by candlelight. Hermione watched the light in her eyes dance until she slipped back into her dreams.

She woke again to cool morning light coming through the window and Molly flitting around her, taking her temperature and adjusting her blankets. When Hermione's eyes opened Molly propped her head up on a pillow to spoon-feed her more medicine. Bellatrix watched silently from the doorway. Molly shushed her soothingly and Hermione's eyes remained locked with Bella's until sleep claimed her again.

Her dreams held a vague sense of panic. Bellatrix was in them, but it didn't feel like the woman she knew. The old Bellatrix haunted her, laughed at her, chased her and hurt her in ways she didn't like. She still feared her, even though she didn't exist anymore. She would always fear losing the woman she loved to the woman she'd despised.

Her visits to the land of the conscious were brief but increasingly frequent. Days must've been passing as she recovered. Everyone visited and she tried to count the faces, account for all of her friends. There was a grimness to them that she picked up on, a loss weighing on their shoulders. She knew they wouldn't tell her until she was fully recovered but Hermione ran through the people who hadn't visited; Moody, Kingsley, Remus. She appreciated the blissful ignorance for as long as she could.

She tried to cling to consciousness the more violent her dreams became. Bellatrix Lestrange was plaguing her, threatening her, torturing her only for Hermione to wake and see Bellatrix Black always nearby, always watching over her. The difference was truly astounding and Hermione found herself measuring the two versions of Bella against each other to occupy her waking mind.

How could she love one so much and fear the other just as ardently? They were the same at the core, weren't they? It was only the circumstances that caused such a radical difference in behavior.

She woke from a particularly disturbing nightmare where Lestrange would Crucio her in between extremely personal taunts, where she claimed her affection for her was only a ruse to tear her apart in the end. Hermione woke in a panic and the real Bella was at her side in an instant.

"What is it?"

Hermione shook her head, paralyzed with pain and fear. Bellatrix clutched her wrist with one hand and forced Hermione to look at her with the other hand tugging at her hair. Bellatrix leaned over her, her pale face shining in the dark room.

"Focus on what's real," Bellatrix whispered.

Hermione listened. She focused only on the hard affection in the woman's eyes, on the firm grip of her hands, on the smell of her. She came back to reality and felt like she was returning home. Still, the shadow from her dream left a shimmering pinprick of fear in her heart. It felt like a warning.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter from Hermione's pov for a while!

_And I've never loved a darker blue_   
_Than the darkness I have known in you, own from you_   
_You, whose heart would sing of anarchy_   
_You would laugh at meanings, guarantees, so beautifully_   
_When our truth is burned from history_   
_By those who figured justice in fond memory, witness me_   
_Like fire weeping from a cedar tree_   
_Know that my love would burn with me_   
_We'll live eternally_

_Better Love-Hozier_

 

Hermione knew she'd finally recovered when she woke and the fog of sleep didn't immediately try to drag her back. Her wounds weren't painful or oozing blood anymore, she noted with relief. She rolled her head to the side to see Harry dozing in the armchair next to her, feet propped up on the bed. She nudged his feet as she sat up and stretched. Harry straightened, rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a small smile.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

Hermione rubbed at where her wounds were and found them mostly healed. The bandages were gone and all that remained were three jagged, scabbed over gashes following the slant of her ribs. _They'll probably scar,_ she thought sadly. She swung her legs over the side of the bed to face him.

"Yes, thank you Harry," she said with a forced smile.

"Good, good," Harry moved from the armchair to sit on the edge of the bed next to her, "Hermione, somethings happened,"

The weak smile had fallen from his face and she braced herself for what was coming.

"Who did we lose?" she asked.

"Moody," Harry said grimly, "Ollivander, too,"

He went on to explain what she'd missed. Mundungus's betrayal, his vision, George's injury, Ron's plan to have the ghoul impersonate him, his plan for them to leave after Bill and Fleur's wedding. _I go to sleep for a little while and everything goes to hell,_ she thought numbly.

Hermione absorbed this as best she could. They had lost so much and Alastor Moody and Ollivander were great men and great wizards but not people she'd known well. She wanted to cry but after everything she'd been through the tears wouldn't come. She put a hand on Harry's knee and squeezed, knowing how personally he would take the loss.

After a moment something occurred to her, "What day is it?"

Harry chuckled, "it's the 31st,"

Hermione punched his shoulder, "Harry! Happy birthday! Oh, I wish I could've planned something,"

"It's alright, I don't want anything special. We're just having dinner tonight and we need to be ready to leave tomorrow. I just want to enjoy one more regular day before…"

He trailed off and they sat in silence for a while, both reflecting on what had been lost and how much was still left to lose. Until inevitably Hermione's mind wandered to Bellatrix, hoping she was still with them and hadn't gone on her suicide revenge mission.

Harry looked at her when she tightened her grip subconsciously on his knee. He only had to glance at her to know where her mind had gone.

"She's outside," Harry said.

Hermione glanced out the window. It was hard to tell what time it was with the thick storm clouds gathering overhead. It was pouring rain and the wind blew hard enough to make the Burrow creak and groan under the force of it. She gave Harry's knee a pat before she got up to pull on a heavy cloak and make her way out of the room.

It had to have been the early hours of the morning because the house was still quiet, silent in a way the Burrow only was when everyone was asleep. She left the house without encountering another soul, pulling open the front door to receive a face full of ice cold rain water and wind. She cast a quick spell to shield herself from the water and trudged into the impending storm. She didn't have to walk long before she found Bellatrix standing at the edge of the charred field that stretched for miles. She imagined that after Bella carried her out through the flames the other members of the Order managed to counteract the fiendfyre before it destroyed the Burrow. It must've taken all of them to put out a fire of that magnitude.

She reached Bellatrix and saw that she'd made no effort to protect herself from the downpour. She was soaked, her curls weighed down and dripping down her back, her shirt and robes clinging to her trembling body. Hermione wrapped herself around her, tucking her face against Bella's freezing neck. Bella jerked in surprise but opened her arms to welcome her into them.

"What are you doing out here?" Hermione asked, raising her voice so she'd be heard over the wind.

"Thinking about the future," Bella said, and Hermione felt Bella's neck vibrate with the words against her cheek.

Hermione pulled away to look at her, "Tell me,"

Bellatrix pulled her eyes away from the black field to look at her. There was so much pain and guilt in that look.

"I'm being torn apart," Bellatrix said, "Every second of every day…by who I was, by who I am now. There are these impulses that don't…agree with the life I have now."

"Bella…" Hermione ran her hands up and down the woman's arms to warm her, "You've changed so much already. We have the rest of our lives to work on the rest of it,"

Bellatrix shook her head and stepped away from her, "What if there is no changing? What If I'm like this forever? There is so much anger inside of me it's destroying me looking for a way out,"

"Just the fact that you don't _want_ to let it out shows how far you've come,"

Bellatrix clenched her jaw and returned her eyes to the storm clouds. In that moment, Hermione could _see_ the struggle happening inside her, see the violent kaleidoscope of emotions. There was rage, fear, resentment and so much tenderness all locked in a battle for control. Bellatrix was fighting so hard to be better and everything suddenly clicked into focus.

"Bellatrix," Hermione's heart raced as she tried to gather her courage and Bella's eyes shifted back to her at the tone in her voice. Under her gaze Hermione's heart raced even faster. She took a breath and focused on the significance of what she had to say, "Bella. You've been trying so, so hard from the very beginning. You've fought for me at every opportunity. Every time I ran away you welcomed me when I was ready to come back. You always defend me, you always watch over me. I…I love the way your mind works. All of that anger and fear, all of your impulses…it only makes me love you more for how _good_ you are despite all of that,"

Bellatrix went completely still at the confession. All of the swirling struggle in her eyes stilled and she looked at Hermione like she'd lost her memory all over again and was seeing her for the first time.

"You love me?" she whispered, and Hermione almost missed the sound of her voice cracking over the wind.

Blinking tears away, she nodded, "Yes. I love you,"

She'd said the words before countless times; to parents, to friends. It was a completely different feeling, saying them to a lover. It felt like unlocking her ribcage and placing her heart in Bella's hands, trusting her not to curl her fingers around it and squeeze.

Bellatrix's gaze wandered over her face, her lips parted slightly in awe. Then she swooped forward and crashed their mouths together. Hermione had never been kissed with such desperation. Bellatrix kissed like she was dying and the elixir of life lied between Hermione's lips.

She tasted like rainwater and tragedy and triumph, she felt like oblivion.

Bella's long finger dug into her hips and Hermione sank her hands into tangled wet hair and their mouths moved together like they were made to dance with one another. Thunder rumbled above so loudly it was like the universe was about to crumble around them and Hermione thought that if a kiss could end the world this would be the one.

Bellatrix pulled away, gasping for air. Hermione's head was spinning and she clutched Bellatrix to keep herself upright. They rested like that for a moment until Bellatrix moved away, looking like she was drunk and needed space between them to sober up. She looked away and Hermione could see her searching for words, could see the importance of her next question before she asked it.

"If I get my memories back, would you still love me then?"

Hermione stepped forward and reached for her, laced their fingers together, "Bella, if you ever got your memories back you'd kill me on the spot,"

The older witch leaned in close enough for Hermione to hear her crystal clear over the storm, "Never. Now that I have you, nothing can take you from me. I'd burn down anything that tried,"

With their fingers tightly interlocked and those coal black eyes burning into her own, Hermione knew she would let her.

* * *

They dried off and spent the rest of the day curled up in the living room while they waited out the storm. The inhabitants of the Burrow buzzed around them, ignoring them, and it felt so normal. It was a taste of the life Hermione wanted for them.

She sat on the floor in front of the couch with a book on her lap and Bellatrix sat behind her, her legs on either side of her while she braided Hermione's hair. Bill and Fleur where at the dining table putting the final touches on their wedding plans, Harry and Ginny were shut away in her room now that Hermione was out of it, and Ron and his brothers were out back playing Quidditch. It was a niche of normalcy in the eye of the storm.

Hermione stood when she smelled dinner being prepared. Bellatrix pouted at her.

"I'm not done with your hair,"

She could already feel her frizzy locks fighting their way out of the braid, "It'll never hold anyway. I'm going to see if Mrs. Weasley needs any help with dinner, would you like to come?"

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose and picked up Hermione's book, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. Hermione rolled her eyes at her and left the room to find Molly buzzing about the kitchen. Ginny joined them a few minutes later and between the three of them they had dinner ready in record time.

Hermione helped with the decorations as well and soon the atmosphere was as happy and homey as always. Bellatrix even let her hold her hand under the table and the woman even attempted to engage in conversation with Fleur but quickly lost interest when she didn't talk about anything other than the wedding tomorrow.

Yet still there was an underlying sense of foreboding hanging over them. Molly's happiness came off forced and she was more overbearing than usual, Harry's smile slipped from his face every time he allowed himself to glance at Ginny and Ron's smile was sad as he thought of leaving this all behind.

More guests arrived when the cake was ready and Bellatrix seemed increasingly uncomfortable with the new arrivals. Hermione thought it'd be good for her to make more friends from her world but everyone was weary around her, untrusting of her loyalties. It made forming any kind of connection impossible. It seemed like Tonks may have wanted to get to know her aunt better but Lupin still hated her.

Hermione was thinking of turning in early when Arthur's Patronus arrived to warn of the Ministers arrival. Tonks and Lupin left before Scrimgeour arrived. She was shocked when he asked to speak to her, Harry, Ron-and Bellatrix in private. The trio squeezed in together on the couch and Bellatrix stood next to Hermione by the edge of the couch, glaring suspiciously at the man seated across from them. Before anyone could say anything Hermione began defending Bella's presence.

"Sir, you see, she has no memory therefore she's not a threat-,"

"Miss Granger, it was already agreed upon that Bellatrix would be…excused from her crimes as long as she has no recollection of them," he said this with tremendous effort, "Now, if that situation ever changes it is your responsibility to report it immediately as she _must_ be held accountable for her atrocities,"

Scrimgeour eyed Bellatrix with the upmost distaste and she sneered right back. Hermione marveled at how Dumbledore must've accomplished such a feat. Hermione gripped Bella's forearm anxiously, awaiting the Minister's next words.

"I'm here to discuss the will of Albus Dumbledore,"

The trio exchanged looks and Bellatrix actually cackled.

"You're suggesting Dumbledore left something to _me_?" she asked incredulously.

"I was as surprised as you are, Miss Lestrange,"

Bella didn't bother correcting his use of her name, too stunned that the man would have bothered leaving her something.

"Is that why it took you so long to discuss his will with us? You were just so _surprised?_ " Hermione asked sarcastically, knowing full well that wasn't the reason.

After she laid into him about his suspicion over what Dumbledore would have to give them, Scrimgeour began reading off the items and handing them out. To Ron, his Deluminator, to Hermione _The Tales of Beedle the Bard,_ and to Harry the snitch from his first match. The sword of Gryffindor was left to him as well, but Scrimgeour wouldn't allow them to have it for it "wasn't Dumbledore's to give away".

"One last thing," Scrimgeour said and continued reading from the parchment, " _To Bellatrix Black I leave Fawkes, my loyal companion of many years, in the hopes that he will serve as a reminder of the beauty and strength that comes from rebirth."_

There was a heavy silence before Bella looked around the room.

"Well, where is the blasted thing?" she asked.

Scrimgeour stood and gathered his things, "He ought to be arriving by now. If you'll walk me out…?"

The four of them led the Minister out of the house and sure enough a squawk alerted them to Fawkes, perched on the roof of the Burrow. As soon as he saw Bellatrix, he came swooping down at an alarming speed. Bella straightened as he approached and winced when he landed excitedly on her shoulder, talons digging into her flesh through her shirt. He nipped happily at her hair and she swatted at him to get him to stop. It was incredible, his ability to recognize his new owner. Harry approached Bella to pat Fawkes on the head. The phoenix fluffed up his feathers happily and whacked Bella with a wing in the process. He was much too large to rest comfortably on Bellatrix's slender shoulders, forcing the woman to tilt her head awkwardly to the side to accommodate him.

As soon as the Minister left Hermione felt a wave of exhaustion from the events of the day. She and Bella would stay in Ginny's room again tonight and Ginny would share with Fred and George as she'd been doing the days Hermione spent ill. She bid everyone goodnight and Harry a final "happy birthday" before she, Bella and Fawkes retired to the bedroom.

They opened the window so Fawkes could come and go as he pleased. He left Bella's shoulder to perch on the window and Hermione began stripping for bed. She glanced over at Bellatrix, who was leaning against the door and watching her with that disarmingly soft expression on her face. Hermione pulled her shirt off and lowered her eyes self-consciously as Bella's eyes roamed over the healing wounds.

"They're ugly, I know," she murmured.

Instead of responding, Bellatrix pushed off the door and stepped forward until she was in her space. Then she slowly began undoing the buttons on her own shirt. Hermione' eyes lifted to track the movement until Bellatrix's scars from Fenrir were revealed. They were different than her own, shorter in length but the wounds had been deeper. There were four claw marks, about an inch in length mirrored on either side of her ribs.

"We match," Bellatrix whispered.

Hermione let out a shuddering sigh and lifted her shaking fingertips to the scars. They were still pink with rawness and Bellatrix hissed when she touched her but didn't move away. Hermione closed the space between them and lowered her head to kiss Bella's shoulder before resting her head on it.

"You're exhausted," Bella said, hands wrapping around Hermione's arms, "Let's get some rest, hmm? Big day tomorrow,"

Hermione made a soft noise of agreement and let Bellatrix strip her down to her underwear and pull her to bed. Hermione fought through the fog of sleep to watch Bellatrix undress to a similar state before crawling into bed next to her. She wished she had the strength to act on the desire stirring inside of her but her exhaustion was relentless and she fell claim to it within seconds.

* * *

Hermione stood in front of the floor length mirror in Ginny's bedroom the following afternoon, putting the final touches on her hair. She wore a deep red dress, a color and a style she rarely wore. She looked different, she felt different. Every day Bella was in her life made her feel like something was changing inside of her and she searched uselessly for any indication in her reflection.

Bellatrix crept up behind her, easily slipping her arms around her waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. Bellatrix wasn't dressed yet, her eyes were heavy with sleep and her hair a tangled mess. She'd only pulled on a silk black robe to cover herself.

"You look lovely," Bella purred, eyeing their entwined reflections appreciatively.

Hermione slipped one last bobby pin into her hair to hold it in place before turning her full attention to her lover. As good as she looked half asleep and brimming with unabashed lust, she couldn't very well attend a wedding looking like that.

"Bella," she sighed, "You need to get ready or we'll be late,"

Bellatrix pouted and slid her hands lower, over Hermione's stomach and down her thighs until they touched bare skin.

"I think we've got some time to spare, don't you?" she whispered, turning her pouting mouth to suck on Hermione's neck. The simple gesture had heat building low in Hermione's stomach and she knew if she let it continue she wouldn't be able to resist and they _would_ be late.

"Bella," Hermione warned.

She felt Bella's lips curve up into a smirk as she ignored her, fingers creeping up her dress. Bella's tongue snuck out and she licked up Hermione's neck until she reached her earlobe.

"Come now, darling, this won't take long,"

Hermione was already slick with wetness but she was plagued with visions of arriving late to the ceremony, of interrupting vows. In her mind she saw everyone turning to glare at them. With incredible effort she turned in Bella's arms and put a hand on her chest to put some distance between them.

Bellatrix had the expression of a child whose favorite toy was taken away from her. Hermione schooled her features into a stern look, knowing if Bella pushed any more she would cave.

"Get ready," Hermione ordered.

Bellatrix glared at her and Hermione wiggled out of her arms and fled the room before she could change her mind. She was left with the image of Bella's dark gaze and she had the impression she'd live to regret that.

She met Ron and Harry outside where guests were beginning to arrive. Harry was already disguised but she still recognized him easily enough from his mannerisms and the simple fact that he was standing next to Ron. She busied herself with greeting the new arrivals and tried not to think about the woman she'd left high and dry upstairs.

It wasn't long before everyone was ushered inside for the ceremony. Hermione rolled her eyes, not at all surprised that Bellatrix was running late even without getting what she wanted. People were still milling about their seats and chatting while they waited for the wedding party to arrive. Hermione was in the middle of catching up with Luna when the hairs on the back of her neck raised like she could sense when Bella was near. She trailed off mid-sentence to turn around and saw Bellatrix as she rounded the corner into the tented area.

The whole world went silent.

Bellatrix had taken her breath away in so many ways throughout the time Hermione had known her but this was different. She'd seen Bellatrix alight with anger, full of fire. She'd seen her wild with longing, she'd seen her unraveling in a storm, seen her cracked open with tenderness. She thought there was no new way to love her, no new light to see her in that could possibly make her need her any more, and she'd been very wrong.

Bellatrix's curls were swept over one shoulder, tamed in an elegant style Hermione had never seen her wear. There were small, diamond clips scattered in her tumbling hair, which reminded Hermione of the time she'd found her sitting by the lake in the freezing cold with snowflakes melting into her curls. She was wearing a sinfully tight black dress, cut low enough to straddle the line between tantalizing and inappropriate for a public event. Her eyes were made impossibly darker with liner and her lips were blood red and smirking in her direction.

Hermione's eyes followed the dress down to her ankles and dragged slowly back up her body and she kicked herself for not just being late for once in her life. When she got back to the woman's face she was looking at her like she knew every thought running through her mind. She always seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. Hermione wished she could say the same but Bellatrix was often impossible to read.

The witch sauntered towards her achingly slow with everyone's eyes on her. It was then Hermione noticed that her world hadn't fallen silent solely because of Bellatrix's beauty, but it had actually gone quiet because everyone in the room had stopped talking. She remembered Bellatrix's reputation, a fact increasingly easy to forget about with each passing day. If she could tear her eyes away from the witch she was sure to find a mix of hatred awe in the faces of. There were echoes of the woman the world knew her as but the woman they saw now was different and it showed.

At last Bellatrix stood in front of her and Hermione wanted nothing more than to grab her hand and run from the prying eyes, do what she should've let happen upstairs. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow when Hermione failed to force any words from her gaping mouth. Bella's eyes shifted to something behind her.

"Hermione?" A deep, accented voice said.

Hermione whirled around and first felt a swell of happiness at the sight of Viktor Krum, her old…friend, followed quickly by a rising panic when she recalled the possessive nature of the woman standing close by.

"Hello, Viktor," Hermione squeaked.

Bellatrix stepped close behind her and slipped an arm around her waist.

"Who's this?" she asked lowly.

"Um, Viktor is a-a friend from Durmstrang I met during my fourth year. Viktor, this is Bellatrix. I'm sure you've heard about her,"

Viktor's eyes flicked between Hermione and Bella as the polite smile fell from his face. He made no effort to hide his dislike of the witch. She watched him connect the dots; Bellatrix's irritation, Hermione's nervousness, the hand around her waist. She watched the shadow of disgust pass over his face before he hurriedly excused himself to his own seat. It shouldn't matter what other people thought but it still stung.

Harry and Ron took the seats to Hermione's right as the music began, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. Maybe Viktor and Ron would finally get along now that they had something in common.

"Just a friend, hm?" Bellatrix whispered once everyone was seated.

Hermione gave a small shrug. Bellatrix dropped it and they watched the ceremony in silence. She felt Bellatrix burning a hole into the side of her head when she teared up during the exchange of vows. She couldn't stop the onslaught of emotion at the sight of two people _making it,_ even through all the death and war. They'd forged their own happy ending in the midst of all the unhappiness and she couldn't fight the tears.

Once it was over she glanced at Bellatrix who was completely unaffected. She actually looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep, but she perked up when she noticed Hermione glaring at her. She gave her a small smile and put a hand on her thigh, tracing her fingers along bare skin.

The reception began and all she could think about was how unlikely it was that she'd ever have an ending like this. It was obvious now that Bellatrix was the love of her life, that she'd never love another person the way she loved that woman. She also knew that Bellatrix was probably not the type to get married like this, even if they managed to come out on the other side of this alive. Loving her would have to be taken a day at a time.

"Dance with me?" She asked Bellatrix pleadingly.

Bellatrix squinted down at her and Hermione was sure she was going to say no. Bellatrix analyzed her thoughtfully before sighing.

"Not here," she said instead.

Bella entwined their fingers and pulled her outside, away from the light and prying eyes. Outside the marquee the music was softer and it was darker, so Hermione could hear the crickets and see the stars. A slow song started right on cue and Bellatrix slipped her arms around her waist and swayed with her. Hermione wrapped her arms around her shoulders and lost herself in the feeling of utter completeness that she always found in her arms.

"Hermione…?" Bellatrix said after a while.

Hermione hummed, her eyes shut.

"I-," Bellatrix cleared her throat and paused. Hermione opened her eyes and pulled back a bit to look into her eyes. She'd just missed whatever expression she had on her face, her features were already schooled into a blank mask. "I'm thirsty,"

Hermione didn't realize how badly she wanted to hear her say something else until the disappointment set in. The panic was clear in Bella's eyes and she tried to tell herself that of course Bellatrix loved her, how could she have done everything she'd done if she didn't?

So why couldn't she just tell her?

"Wait here, I'll bring you a butterbeer," Bellatrix said. She detached herself and disappeared back into the tent before Hermione could get a word out. Hermione stared out into the darkness, eyes searching for the spot Bellatrix had kissed her earlier. She fought through the tightness in her throat, refusing to cry over it. It shouldn't have been a big deal but still, she wished she could live that moment in the storm one more time, see Bellatrix open up for her again and see all of those emotions swirling in her eyes.

Her thoughts came to a sudden halt when she heard a commotion coming from inside the tent. She ran back inside in time to see a Patronus in the center of room with Kingsley's voice booming out over the watching crowd. She only managed to catch the end of what he was saying.

"-They are coming."

Panic immediately erupted over the crowd. Suddenly people were Disapparating or slamming into Hermione to try to get out. Harry was at her side in an instant and she clung to his arm to avoid getting knocked over in the chaos.

"We have to find Ron and get out of here!" Harry shouted.

"Bella too!" she cried, searching frantically through the commotion to find her. The Death Eater's were there already and the Order members in attendance were trying to shield people from attack. She and Harry shoved their way through the crowd until Ron ran straight into them. He clung to her arm and Hermione looked around him until she finally found Bellatrix across the room. Bellatrix was brimming with energy, always in her natural element standing in battle; she was a warrior, through and through. The moment their eyes met Bellatrix pointed her wand at her and a spell came hurtling towards her and connected with something behind her. She whirled around to see a stunned Death Eater on the ground behind her.

Someone shoved into Ron, who fell into her. Her eyes found Bellatrix again and she _knew_ she was too far away.

" _Go_!" Bellatrix screamed at her.

There were too many enemies and they needed to get out of there. The fate of the wizarding world rested on that necessity and still she found herself shaking her head at Bellatrix. Harry blocked a curse headed straight towards them and Bellatrix's gaze shifted to him. Hermione ripped her attention away long enough to disarm a Death Eater approaching them.

"We have to go!" Ron shouted.

She tried to push forward again but Harry grabbed her around the waist.

"No!" Hermione screamed at him. She tried to twist away from him but Ron was holding her back now too. She managed to find Bellatrix's eyes one more time. Her face was hard and her eyes were desperate. Hermione remembered what she'd said and she clung to that as her vision blurred and her heart shattered inside her.

" _Nothing can take you from me,"_ Hermione heard her voice so clearly inside her mind. It was like she was next to her, sighing the promises into her ear. She heard Harry apologize and saw the ferocity in Bellatrix's eyes right before they Disapparated.

" _I'd burn down anything that tried."_


	11. Chapter 11

There were too many of them.

Bellatrix knew this seconds into the battle. The smoky black shapes whipped around them, too many to count, hurling spells at a terrifying velocity. Her mind went into overdrive, focusing completely on making sure one of those spells didn't hit her. Her thoughts simplified and condensed into a few simple priorities; _do not let yourself get hit_ and _make sure Hermione escapes unharmed._

Hermione, Harry and Ron migrated together almost naturally through the chaos. It was not so easy for Bellatrix to reach them. Her chest was hot with frustration, her mind buzzed with the inevitable.

_They are too far away._

Bellatrix knew this. She knew. They were on opposite sides of the bloody tent and the masses of wedding guests combined with the Death Eaters made it impossible to go one step without hurling or deflecting a curse.

Hermione's eyes met hers through the battle. In her love's moment of distraction a Death Eater materialized behind her.

"Petrificus Totalus," Bellatrix snarled. Her aim was deadly even from yards away. The trio could not afford to wait for Bellatrix to reach them; that much was clear.

"Go," Bellatrix screamed.

Hermione shook her head. Bellatrix could read her thoughts without using a hint of Legilimency. Her lovely, devoted girl would never leave her behind.

But Bellatrix knew who would. Harry turned to look at her like he could feel the intensity of her gaze. Bellatrix reached into a passing pillar of smoke and plucked a Death Eater out of the air, pressed her wand to his throat and poured all her anger into cursing him senseless.

"Get. Her. Out!" Bellatrix yelled.

Harry nodded gravely and Bellatrix had time to look at her lover one more time, meet her frantic brown eyes for one final second. There wasn't a memory spell in the world that could erase the image of Hermione's heartbroken expression from her mind, she was sure of it.

Watching Hermione Disapparate was the most painful experience in Bellatrix's short memory. It felt like a piece of her, the most important piece of her had vanished into thin air. Bellatrix knew the chances of ever seeing her again were slim to none and the thought made her feel like someone was taking an axe to her chest. _Heartbreak,_ she realized. She could've laughed. She gets herself a new life and the first thing she does is fall in love and she can't even hold onto the one thing that mattered.

 _So this is the feeling people write novels about_.

The emotion was unfamiliar and devastating. She reached inside herself, searching for the rage that she could typically draw power from. She found nothing but desolation. It was so hard to fight now that the one she'd been fighting for was gone, possibly never to be seen again. To make matters more difficult, the wounds on her ribs were aching just from the simple act of holding her arm up for too long.

The blonde man she was dueling smiled, like he could sense her weakness. The man wasn't even an impressive dueler but her whole body felt heavy, casting each spell felt like hurling a block of cement as far as she could. It felt useless. Impossible. It was a lost cause; that much was clear even before she was disarmed.

He snatched her wand out of the air and gave her a sickening grin. He marched towards her and once he was close enough, Bellatrix broke his nose. He stumbled to the side, knocking over a frantic wedding guest as he tried to right himself. Before he could regain his footing, Bellatrix threw all her weight at him and they both fell to the ground. He had a good seventy pounds on her however, and before she could throw another punch his fist slammed into the side of her face. She reeled, falling onto the ground next to him.

She felt his hand twist into her hair and suddenly they were gone from the wedding and she was on the dark hardwood floor of an unfamiliar living room. She groaned, trying to reorient herself after the Disapparation. The room was nice, full of dark furniture with silver accents. She couldn't have designed it better herself, she noted dully.

"Bella? Is it really you?" A woman's voice said.

Bellatrix pushed herself up and found a blonde woman standing at the door. She rushed over to the man, helping him to his feet. Bellatrix glared up at the two people suspiciously, trying to decide if she should fight her way out or wait to hear what they had to say.

Before she could make a decision, the woman said, "It's me, Narcissa. Your sister,"

Bellatrix got to her feet and glowered at her, drinking in the sight of her, searching for some semblance of familiarity. Her blonde hair and blue eyes bore no resemblance to herself or to the other sister she met but there was something else there, a coldness in her eyes and rigidness in her posture.

"Draco's mother?" Bellatrix asked dryly.

Narcissa nodded.

"Can't say I like the boy. Little brat tried to poison me,"

Narcissa didn't look surprised by the information, just tired, "Voldemort would have ordered it. Draco doesn't have much choice in these matters anymore,"

Bellatrix put her hands on her hips and tilted her chin up, "I expect you'll be turning me in then? If your Lord wants me dead,"

"Our Lord," The man corrected, gingerly touching his bleeding nose.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" she spat.

"Lucius," He sneered, and the resemblance between him and his son was clear.

Narcissa approached her cautiously, "Lucius is right. Voldemort is our Lord. Ours and _yours,_ it's how it's always been. I was wrong to doubt that,"

Bellatrix clenched her jaw, a terrible thought entering her mind. She didn't want it to be true, she didn't want this to be happening but Narcissa opened her mouth to speak again and terror rose up inside her, consuming her.

"The Dark Lord wanted you to take a bigger role in Draco's life. I was scared. And Bella, you have to understand you were becoming more and more unstable with every passing day,"

Bellatrix shook her head, stepping away but Narcissa and her husband were creeping closer. Her back hit the wall and Narcissa closed the space between them, clutching her shoulders.

"I just wanted to help you. But then you vanished and next thing I hear you're helping the enemy, consulting with mudbloods and blood traitors! I didn't want it to come to that. I suppose all I can do now is undo that mistake,"

Narcissa raised a hand to stroke her hair and Bellatrix jerked her head away. The panic was rising in her throat as her worst fear came to life in front of her eyes. Narcissa drew her wand and Bellatrix shoved past her and made a break for the door.

"Lucius!" Narcissa cried.

She cried out in despair when a spell hit her in the back and she collapsed, frozen. Lucius dragged her petrified body back into the room by her feet and tugged her up onto the leather couch.

 _Don't!_ She wanted to scream, _Torture me, kill me, anything but this!_

Narcissa leaned over her and pressed her wand to her temple. Tears began leaking from Bellatrix's eyes and Narcissa looked at her strangely. Bellatrix thought desperately of Hermione, visualized every detail of her face. _Please don't let her hate me._ Bellatrix begged.

" _If you ever got your memories back, you'd kill me on the spot,"_

Bellatrix's chest heaved with a sob but the noise couldn't escape her frozen mouth.

Narcissa was crying too as she began whispering unfamiliar incantations. She felt Lucius's spell lift and her body seized as images assaulted her mind. She saw a dark haired woman raising her hand to her, black eyes glimmering with pure malice. She heard a man yelling. She saw little two girls, one blonde and one brunette curled up under a dining room table. She smelled fire, she heard laughter. Her own laughter, she thought.

Bellatrix slipped from the couch and landed heavily on her knees. She put her hands over her ears and screamed. Hermione's smiling face exploded into focus behind her eyelids and all the windows in the Manor's living room shattered.

Her eyes flew open to dispel the image and she screamed until her voice went hoarse. When she couldn't scream any longer she stumbled to her feet, picked up a chair and hurled it at the wall, missing Lucius by inches.

"Bella, please!" Narcissa cried.

Bellatrix whirled on her and the screaming stopped. Breathing hard, she began taking slow, calculated steps towards the corner her sister cowered in. A shard of glass pierced her through her boot but she didn't notice the pain. Narcissa trembled, looking even more terrified of her in her silence.

When she got closer, Narcissa raised her wand threateningly. Bellatrix shot forward before she could get a word out and smacked the wand out of her hand, where it clattered uselessly to the floor. In one fluid motion, she wrapped a hand around Narcissa's neck and pressed her harder into the corner.

She blinked, the world around her shimmered and suddenly it wasn't Narcissa standing in front of her anymore.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" Bellatrix asked shakily.

Hermione stared up at her with warmth in her brown eyes, no hint of fear despite her current position. Bellatrix didn't know if she wanted to kill her or kiss her for looking at her with such fondness.

"I can help you with that, you know," Hermione said, "I can heal you, Bellatrix,"

Bellatrix blinked at her, confusion replacing her fog of rage. Her grip around Hermione's neck loosened, right before someone hit her with a spell and she blacked out.

* * *

_"He should be honored to risk his life for the Dark Lord!" Bellatrix yelled, trying to talk some bloody sense into her sister._

_Narcissa paced in her foyer, frantic with worry. It was nighttime, and they'd just gotten back from Snape's little dwelling after making the Unbreakable Vow. Bellatrix thought it would help her sister, but she was inconsolable now that Draco's fate was essentially sealed._

_"No, no, it's not honor it's a suicide mission! How can he expect Draco to succeed in taking down one of the most powerful wizards to ever live?"_

_"We've taken precautions, Cissy. Snape is helping him, though I understand that's not much comfort. I am helping him too, though, take solace in that. You should be honored he has someone like me to teach him Occlumency,"_

_"Yes, honored," Narcissa laughed mockingly, "No offence, Bella, but you taking a larger role in his life isn't the great comfort you think it is,"_

_Bellatrix felt a twinge of hurt, but it was quickly overrun by a flood of fury. In a few short steps, she had Narcissa backed into the wall._

_"Why the bloody hell not?" She screamed, "After everything I've done for you and this family, you still don't have faith in me?"_

_Narcissa's eyes were steel, "Why should I? You're completely mad! I won't have you corrupting my son with your crazed ramblings, I won't have you endangering his life with your fanatic ideas! The Dark Lord and his ridiculous mission will get us all killed!"_

_Without thinking, Bellatrix struck her sister hard across her face. Narcissa clutched her cheek, stunned, where a line of blood was forming from Bella's ring. Bellatrix had never laid a hand on her before._

_Bellatrix stumbled away from her, the haze of wrath and madness swirling around her, filling her lungs and clouding her vision. She stared at Narcissa, who stared back at her now with disgust and fear. She looked at her the way she used to look at their mother, and the thought turned her stomach._

_"You're just like her," Narcissa spat. The four simple words hurt more than any physical blow she'd ever received._

_"Don't say that," Bellatrix sobbed. Her anger immediately washed away with a wave of devastation and desperation. She rushed forward again and clutched at Cissy's forearms, falling to her knees, "I'm sorry! Forgive me, forgive me!"_

_She pressed her face against her sister's stomach to muffle her cries._

_"I can't watch this happen," Narcissa said, her voice thick with pity, "I can't watch you descend into madness the way Mother did. You'll take us all down with you,"_

_Narcissa was the only person in the world capable of breaking her heart, and she was doing it with such callousness. She refused to believe what she was saying, refused to believe she was anything like their mother. She couldn't bear it._

_"I'm not mad, I'm not mad," Bellatrix chanted, her voice shattered with sobs, "I'm not mad,"_

_"You are," Narcissa said, pulling her arms out of Bella's grasp. One hand rested on the back of her head, stroking soothingly. She spoke like she'd thought this all out, like she had already decided, "I can help you. I'll make it all go away. Shhh, Bella,"_

_Bellatrix fisted her hands in her sister's dress. She felt something press into the side of her head, but she paid it no mind. She trusted her sister completely._

_"Obliviate," Narcissa whispered._

* * *

"She hasn't moved in hours. Are you sure you didn't knock a screw loose? Turn her into a vegetable?"

"I'm quite confident in my abilities, Draco,"

Bellatrix laid motionless, unable to move. She wondered if she was under some kind of paralysis spell. After several minutes of listening to mother and son bicker over her welfare and whether it was even safe to be in the room with her, she managed to peel open her eyes.

She recognized one of the more extravagant guest rooms, the one she resided in every time she visited her sister. Her head was throbbing painfully, like someone had shattered her skull and then haphazardly glued the pieces back together. It was incredibly difficult to process anything that had happened over the last few months. All she could feel was pulsing pain and irritation.

"Look, she's awake! Bella can you hear me?"

Narcissa was crouched in front of where she was lying on the bed, Draco was leaning against the doorframe with a guarded expression. Picking something simple to focus on, Bellatrix tried to recall what day it was. If Draco was home, he ought to be on break from school. She tried to remember the last time she was outside and flashes of a wedding came back to her. She recalled slow dancing outside, comfortable night air and warm arms wrapped around her.

She groaned, the pain in her head multiplying to an unbearable new height.

"How do we know she's herself again?" Draco drawled. His voice sounded far away, muffled.

Bellatrix's irritation surged in time with her agony, "You'd better keep your sniveling twit of a son away from me, Cissy, before I pay him back for trying to fucking kill me,"

"Yep, that's her," Draco said, before spinning on his heel and leaving the room. Smart kid, realizing that the second she got her strength back she'd be on the warpath.

"Leave him alone. The Dark Lord would've known if he didn't at least try to carry out his bidding. Besides, he didn't try very hard. He knew that mudblood girl visited you almost nightly and would likely be around to save you,"

Bellatrix felt another stab of pain, this time in her chest at the mention of Voldemort. She had failed him so tremendously, he would never forgive her for everything she'd done. Bellatrix rolled over and vomited right next to her sister's shoes.

Narcissa made a quiet noise of repulsion before she snapped her fingers and a House Elf came running in. Her sister stroked her hair when she rolled onto her back to stare at the celling.

"My head," Bellatrix gasped, "I can't think, it hurts so much,"

Narcissa procured her wand and began whispering healing spells. Whatever she was doing eased the pain until it was almost bearable. With a sigh, Bellatrix pushed herself into an upright position. She glared at her sister.

"How could you?"

There were tears glimmering in Narcissa's eyes as she reached for her hand. Bellatrix jerked her hand away, out of her reach. She wanted to get up and burn the blasted house down, leave it in ashes, but where would she go? There wasn't a single place in the world she'd be accepted now, an enemy of both sides. Even if returning to Hermione wasn't an offence to everything she believed in, she would never be accepted by her now that she was back to her old self. To make matters worse, she was now hated by her Lord and his followers.

"I betrayed everything I've ever known. I've sullied our family's name, I've utterly destroyed my honor, pissed on everything I hold dear. Fucking hell, Narcissa, of all the memories for you to miss, the image of Hogwarts?"

A voice in the back of her mind, one that sounded an awful lot like Hermione whispered, _perhaps it was fate._

She ignored that voice.

"How could I have known you'd go there? I thought I got everything," Narcissa defended. She waved off the House Elf once he was done cleaning.

"Well, you didn't," Bellatrix said.

Narcissa got up from the floor to sit by Bellatrix's feet. Bellatrix stared at her lap, her mind still reeling from having a lifetime of memories jammed back into it. After a heavy silence, Narcissa cleared her throat.

"There was something you said earlier…while you were tearing my living room apart and attacking me. You called me Granger,"

She felt a flush of embarrassment. Narcissa thought her mad before, what must she think of her now that she was hallucinating?

"Well excuse me if my brain isn't operating the way it should be. You see, it's a bit dismantled from having my memory wiped and then dumped back without a warning,"

Narcissa's posture was stiffer than usual when she said, "But why the mudblood? Draco said-he mentioned there were rumors about the two of you-,"

"Fuck off," Bellatrix snapped, "You have no right to ask about what I did while I was out of my mind,"

Narcissa swallowed and nodded, "You're right, it wasn't you. Anyway, there are other matters we should discuss. The Dark Lord is not particularly forgiving, as I'm sure you understand. It's my fault all of this has happened and I'm going to do my best to rectify it,"

Bellatrix met her sister's eyes. She looked truly apologetic, but unless she really did find a way to restore her old life she wouldn't be able to forgive her betrayal.

"We'll have to hide you here, for now. Lucius lied and said you Disapparated with him, then knocked him out and got away. He was quite believable, with his broken nose. The only people who know you're here are myself, Draco and Lucius. We'll figure out a way to earn the Dark Lord's forgiveness, to get you back in his good graces,"

Bellatrix laughed at the idea of Voldemort forgiving her. She was forced to stop laughing when the movement caused lightning rods of pain to shoot across her scalp.

"What do you suggest?" She asked, rubbing at her head.

"While you were asleep, I put a plan together. Everyone is looking for Potter, including just about every Snatcher on the continent. I'll pay off several groups of Snatchers, who will promise to deliver the boy and whoever may be aiding him to us before the Dark Lord. If you hand him Harry Potter, along with the secrets I'm sure you learned while in his company, you may stand a chance,"

Bellatrix mulled this over, "And you believe Draco and Lucius capable of keeping this secret?"

Narcissa gave her a small smile, "Well, Draco learned Occlumency from the best, didn't he? As for Lucius…well, the Dark Lord doesn't care enough about him to suspect him of conspiring against him, to be frank,"

Bellatrix nodded. It wasn't a great plan, but it was all there was for her to hope for. She felt completely hollow inside, as if her brain was still refusing to process anything that had happened. She supposed she should feel happy that she was back with her family, that she had her memory and her sense of identity back but somehow she was left feeling even more lost than before.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts, then," Narcissa said, standing, "Dinner is at seven tonight as usual and you're welcome to join. If not, I'll have dinner sent to your room,"

"Oh, and your wand is in the drawer by your bed," Narcissa added, giving her a stern look that said _please don't use it to destroy the house or kill anyone._

Once Narcissa was gone, Bellatrix slid back down on the bed and clutched her head in her hands. She felt like her skull was going to fall apart if she didn't physically hold it together. All there was for her to do now was lay back and watch the memories drift across her eyelids, trying to piece together a sense of self once more. She remembered her crazy mother, her severe father, and her terrified sisters. She thought about everything she'd done to protect them, and how neither of them bothered returning the favor. She remembered Voldemort, too, back when he first rose to power. She used to think that man was the love of her life, that she'd follow him to the ends of the Earth in servitude. That had all been challenged once she was given a blank slate and now she couldn't help but question everything even if she loathed herself for it.

Mostly she thought about Hermione. She hated that girl for what she'd done to her. She'd taken advantage of her in her vulnerable state of mind and now she couldn't shake the thoughts of her. The mudblood ran through her veins now and she felt defiled. When they were separated initially she'd hoped desperately that they'd find each other again but now she feared it.

When everything was taken from her Hermione became a pillar of strength, a beacon of light to guide her. Bellatrix had loved her; that much was impossible to deny. But how could she still? It went against everything she knew, every belief she'd fought and killed for her entire life.

Even if she wanted to find her way back to her, there was no point in it anymore. Both sides would be after them, now that she had her memories back. If Potter succeeded against all odds, she'd be tried and executed for her crimes. If he lost to Voldemort, the Dark Lord would tear the world apart looking for her and Hermione so he could kill them both. Her only chance was Narcissa's plan.

Knowing this, she still couldn't get the girl out of her head. When sleep finally claimed her, she dreamed of warm brown eyes and soft pink lips. Her heart ached, even in sleep.

* * *

Months passed and Bellatrix remained hidden at the Manor while the war raged outside. Quite often meetings were held at the Manor, during which Bellatrix would be in the greenhouse on the opposite end of the property. She got back in touch with her gardening hobby, something she hadn't had the time to do since before Azkaban. She never got much done; always in agony over her proximity to her Lord but having to remain hidden from him. She didn't know if the agony came from fear or longing.

The first time Fawkes arrived at her windowsill, squawking and tapping the glass with his beak, she didn't know if she was happy or annoyed. These days she could never quite get a handle on what she was feeling exactly. Part of her was glad to have a tangible reminder of the way her life was before, but the other part was angry she found any semblance of comfort in it. Fawkes seemed to love her all the same, not having any concept of the war at hand or Bellatrix's inability to fully commit to a side. He didn't seem to care whether she was a Death Eater or simply a woman who loved someone she could never be with. He only bumped her hand with his head until she patted him and bothered her for food. She would never admit it out loud, but the phoenix brought her a sense of calmness she was immensely grateful for. He was the only living creature that would love her regardless of the side she chose.

Even with Fawkes's frequent visits, she often flew into fits of rage, her grip on her sanity even looser than it had been when she came back from Azkaban. She hadn't gone as far as to shatter all the windows in a particular room again, but she was constantly breaking things and hurting herself in her fits. She realized at one point that once she fell in love with Hermione, she almost never lost her mind or her temper. Now that she was gone, so was Bellatrix's grip on reality.

 _All will be well when I am back at the Dark Lord's side,_ she told herself.

Every night she dreamed of some new terrible memory. Sometimes it was the Dementors, sometimes it was her mother. And sometimes it was Hermione, Disapparating away from her over and over. Every night she woke up and couldn't go back to sleep unless she cast a Patronus. The first time she did it she cried for hours, in sheer disbelief that she was still capable of it. The panther would always simply curl up on the edge of her bed and Bellatrix would fall back asleep to the memory of Hermione by the frozen lake with snow in her hair and a blush on her cheeks.

Every morning she woke and pretended it didn't happen.

After four months and no progress in regaining any sort of mental stability, a prisoner was brought to the Manor. Luna Lovegood. Bellatrix was mildly disappointed, for the girl was one of the only students from her time spent at that school that she didn't completely hate. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn't have cared at all.

Narcissa told her she could torture Luna for information if she wanted to. Maybe Narcissa had a point, and a good old Cruciatus would have her feeling like her old self again.

Luna looked remarkably composed, even behind bars. She looked a bit sad, but otherwise not too concerned with her current predicament. She even smiled and Bellatrix when she visited her in her cell.

"Oh, hello," Luna said, "It's nice to see a familiar face,"

She noted with disinterest the vaguely familiar dirty old man in the corner of the room, curled up and facing away from them. She only narrowed her eyes at Luna and drew her wand. She didn't feel the usual rush of excitement that usually accompanied her before the use of her favorite spell.

Luna's face fell, "You're different. You got them back didn't you?"

"Yes," Bellatrix said, rolling her eyes. She didn't know why she was dignifying her with a conversation.

"I'm sorry," Luna said genuinely, "That's very sad,"

Bellatrix tilted her head, "And why's that? I'm back to my old self,"

Luna's eyes were actually welling up with tears. Bellatrix almost laughed at her, but she was genuinely curious to hear what she had to say for herself.

"Are you really, though?"

Bellatrix felt a surge of annoyance at the girl's ability to see right through her, anger at her complete lack of fear. Instead of answering her, Bellatrix decided to prove herself with by saying, "Crucio,"

Luna's body seized up and she fell to the floor. To her credit, she didn't scream, only convulsed silently on the dirty stone floor. Bellatrix lifted the curse after a few seconds, winded. The curse was much harder to cast than she remembered, and she didn't feel like she was back to her old self at all. In fact, she was fairly certain the curse was only barely half its usual strength. She was burning with rage and frustration from the inside out.

Bellatrix screamed in frustration and the chair in the corner of the room burst into flames, the only object in the room that wasn't alive. Luna cried quietly on the floor while Bellatrix lost her mind all over again, shouting obscenities and pulling at her hair.

"It would break her heart to see you like this," Luna said through her tears, raising her voice over Bellatrix's yells of rage.

The moment the words left her mouth, the fire went out and the chair laid in a pile of ashes on the floor.

"Don't," Bellatrix said, her voice hoarse.

She turned to leave the room, feeling worse than when she'd entered it. Luna was still crying quietly on the floor, and the sound followed her up the stairs and back into the living room. The Cruciatus curse had always made her feel powerful, filled her with pure adrenalin but now it just left her feeling empty.

She fought through the urge to destroy the living room once more and stormed out of the house. She walked all the way to the Greenhouse, where Fawkes waited for her inside. He gave her a concerned trill and she glared at him, bypassing him to wind through the rows of plants until she found the one she was looking for.

The Bat Orchid's bloomed beautifully, flawlessly, in a way only achievable by cheating with magic. Bellatrix stroked the black petals fondly. They'd always been her favorite, and some part of her deep down had held onto that even through the memory wipe. They were the flowers she'd conjured for Hermione, her love for them remained on a subconscious level even after everything else was lost.

It left her wondering about love. Whether or not it was something you could ever be rid of once you truly had it.

* * *

 **Note:** I'm sorry! Don't yell at me.


	12. Chapter 12

Months passed and the number of prisoners kept at the Manor grew; a goblin, another Hogwarts student, but never the three Bellatrix was both dreading and hoping for. The trio would be found eventually, she was sure of it. It was only a matter of time. She spent that time trying to decide how she would handle seeing her…former lover once more. She entertained the idea of killing her; she was, after all, the only thing that really stood between her and Voldemort. Surely the best way to prove herself to him, to recommit herself, would be to kill the only other soul she loved as much as she loved him.

If it came to that, she'd be merciful. She'd make it quick, maybe she'd even send her off with a goodbye kiss. The girl was the love of her life, after all. It was really such a shame she was a mudblood and that they were born on opposite sides of a war. Hermione would've made a magnificent Death Eater, that much was undeniable. As much as Bellatrix hated to admit it, she admired her. If Bellatrix was a forest fire Hermione was the raging sea, a force of nature that possessed the relentless strength and dedication to overcome her if their paths were to meet.

The day inevitably came when she heard a commotion coming from the drawing room. Her heart fluttered with excitement at the prospect of seeing her again, of ending this once and for all. She must keep a clear head, keep her end goal in mind.

She wasn't supposed to be seen by the Snatchers when they visited, but she couldn't wait a moment longer. She could always alter their memories, after all. She knew how effective that method was better than anyone.

She flung the door open, "Cissy, what's happened-,"

She stopped short at the sight of three prisoners, their backs to her. One ginger, one with unruly black hair, and one with absurdly bushy locks. Bellatrix could've sworn her heart stopped in her chest.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" a voice rasped.

Bellatrix tore her eyes away from Hermione to see Fenrir Greyback-what was left of him, anyway. Bellatrix stepped around the prisoners to get a better look of him. Hermione's incineration spell had turned him into a product of nightmares. Bellatrix thought him disgusting before, but now his skin was raw and red, all hair singed from his body. His lips were peeled back in an eternal snarl and his breathing was gurgling and raw.

"Fucking hell Greyback, I can't believe you're still alive," Bellatrix laughed.

"No thanks to your lovely pet here," He rasped, "It's alright though. Soon enough we'll hand her over to the Dark Lord, but not before I have my way with her as payment for delivering her and her famous friend,"

Bellatrix drifted to the center of the room, subconsciously positioning herself between the trio and the Snatchers.

"Are we even sure it's them?" Narcissa asked, "Bella, you ought to know,"

Bellatrix turned on her heel and her eyes connected with Hermione's. Those doe eyes shone with fear and elation and tears. Bella's were devoid of emotion. In a few steps she was close to her again breathing in her sent and drinking in the sight of her. She was dirty, exhausted, and skinnier than the last time she'd seen her. She had an absurd urge to brush the matted hair out of her face.

"Tell me it isn't true," Hermione whispered brokenly.

Bellatrix ignored her, glanced at Narcissa over her shoulder and said, "It's them,"

Ron surged forward, reaching for her face, but he got tripped up in his tied feet and fell flat on his face before he could touch her. Bellatrix laughed at him and everyone in the room but Draco followed suit.

"Well, excellent," Lucius said, "I'll call the Dark Lord, then"

Bellatrix whirled on him, "I don't think so!"

Narcissa put a hand on her husband's arm to stop him and the two exchanged heated whispers. Then Bellatrix noticed the Sword of Gryffindor behind Greyback. _Fuck._

"No one calls the Dark Lord," Bellatrix hissed, "Not before I have a little chat with the mudblood,"

"No fucking way," Greyback said, "You'll run off with her if-,"

Bellatrix cut him off with a binding curse _._ While she was at it she _Stupefied_ the whole lot of Snatchers, making short work of them, drunk on her returned power. She met Narcissa's weary gaze. Her sister was looking at her like she feared what Fenrir said was true, that she would run off with Hermione given the chance. As if she hadn't already thought through the consequences.

"Stop looking at me like that. I'm not letting a chance like this go," She approached Narcissa to whisper in her ear, "We need to find out how they got that sword or we're all fucked,"

She ordered Draco to take the unconscious Snatchers outside and released Fenrir from his binds, reigning in the overpowering urge to murder him.

"I expect a share of the mudblood before you're done with her," He growled, nearing Bellatrix on his way to the door.

Bellatrix slapped him hard across the face and shrieked, "The girl is _mine._ No one touches her but me!"

Fenrir looked overcome with rage for a moment before refraining himself. He stalked from the room, knowing Bellatrix would eviscerate him in a fight.

"Don't come back," Bellatrix threatened. The door slammed behind him.

"Lucius, take the boys to the cellar," Bellatrix said, returning to Hermione. At last they were alone. Bellatrix drew a knife and cut the ropes that bound her. Her hands fell to her sides and she dropped her eyes to her feet, visibly shaking. The girl was terrified of her and Bellatrix had yet to say a word to her.

"What is it? No hugs and kisses for your long lost love?" Bellatrix meant to sound taunting but the words came out softer than she intended. Hermione looked up at the tone.

"Scared, Granger?" Bellatrix asked her.

"Yes," Hermione admitted.

Steeling herself, Bellatrix said, "You should be,"

She saw Hermione brace herself for what she knew was coming before she lifted her wand and cried, " _Crucio!_ "

Hermione fell to the ground, convulsing. The spell was much more powerful than the last time she'd cast it, her passion for Hermione twisting to become the driving force. Bellatrix's heart screamed in her chest and for a moment she thought the spell rebounded and was somehow affecting her as well. When she realized it was only her _feelings_ making her feel that way, she only cursed her harder out of spite. A scream ripped its way from Hermione's throat and Bellatrix felt a grim satisfaction.

She lifted the curse and swooped down to straddle Hermione. The position was reminiscent of their position all that time ago when they'd finally given into their desires, only now Hermione was shaking and gasping for an entirely different reason.

"What else did you and your friends take from my vault?" She hissed. The idea of anyone managing to break into Gringots was preposterous, but if anyone could pull it off it would be Hermione fucking Granger.

Hermione twisted away from her, still crying from the curse and from pure terror. Bellatrix fisted a hand in her hair and forced her to look into her eyes.

"We're friends aren't we, love?" Bellatrix said, "Just tell me _what else you took!"_

"We didn't take it from your vault! It appeared to us, Bella, I wouldn't lie to you," Hermione sobbed.

"Maybe not before, but I'm not really that person anymore, am I?" Bellatrix smiled cruelly, twisting her hand in Hermione's hair until she cried out again.

She did know the girl quite well and she didn't seem to be lying. Besides, she'd heard of the sword appearing to "true Gryffindor's" before, whatever that meant. Still, she had _so_ missed the sound of Hermione's screams.

" _Crucio,_ " Bella sighed.

Hermione screamed again and bucked her hips against her. Bellatrix burrowed herself in close, giving into temptation and kissing her beautiful, straining neck. She tightened her thighs around Hermione's hips and ground down ever so slightly, practically against her will.

She hardly noticed when she lifted the spell, consumed with sucking on the soft skin just below Hermione's ear. She sank her teeth down abruptly, roughly, and Hermione's hands flew to her hips to grind her down harder. Bellatrix pulled back to pin her with a look.

Hermione's lips were red and inviting, her eyes wide and wanting, sucking her in. Bellatrix could've sworn the girl was a siren in disguise and if she opened her mouth she'd draw her willingly to her death. Still, Hermione trembled and fear still glimmered behind her mask of desire.

"Hate me yet, mudblood?" Bellatrix implored.

"Never," Hermione said.

Bellatrix crushed their lips together, too much tongue and teeth for it to be a real kiss. Hermione gasped anyway at the invasion, and Bellatrix dipped her tongue into her mouth to slide against hers hotly. She lost herself in the taste of her, logic flying out the window as she melted. Then Hermione bit down _hard,_ and Bellatrix howled and pulled away. Blood filled her mouth and dripped down her chin.

"I ought to kill you for that," she snarled, lips pulling back to reveal blood soaked teeth.

"You won't," Hermione challenged, and Bellatrix hated her for being right. She wanted to do a hell of a lot of things to her, but kill? Bellatrix could see now that would be a bloody waste.

Bellatrix lowered her mouth once more to hover centimeters away from Hermione's. She tucked her wand back up her sleeve and used her free hand to push up under her sweater. She raked her nails down Hermione's stomach, making her shiver.

"Tell me to stop," Bellatrix whispered.

Hermione remained stubbornly silent, and Bellatrix closed her teeth around the skin at her jaw and bit lightly, smearing the blood in her mouth on the ivory skin.

"You don't want me to stop?" Bellatrix asked, sliding her hand up farther until her fingers rubbed over a nipple, "Don't tell me you actually want the big, bad Death Eater to fuck you?"

Hermione gasped and arched her back and Bellatrix cackled. The girl bent to her will so easily it was almost sad. Incredibly hot, but sad. Bellatrix pushed her shirt and her bra up over her head and she greedily drank in the sight of Hermione's small, pert breasts once again. She wasted no time nipping her way down Hermione's chest, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.

"You're a filthy bitch you know that? Biting me like that, you'll have to be punished," Bellatrix punctuated her threat with a bite at Hermione's breast, making her cry out. She shifted so she straddled one of Hermione's thighs, and moved her hand from her hair to dig her nails into Hermione's neck.

"That's right," Bellatrix continued, "I want to make you scream so your little friends can hear you downstairs. They'll think you're being tortured, but we know better than that, hmm?"

Bellatrix unbuttoned the girl's jeans and shoved her hand down her pants, finding her swollen clit immediately. Hermione's hands tangled in her hair and she tugged Bella's head back up her body, bringing their mouths together again. The Gryffindor sucked the remaining blood off her lower lip greedily. Bellatrix's mind was swimming with lust as she tried to procure a clear, rational thought. This wasn't supposed to happen; she was meant to kill her and the weasel boy for good measure, then hand Potter over to the Dark Lord and be done with it.

Yet here Hermione was, making these glorious noises and Bellatrix was helpless to stop the swelling heat between them. The girl was an idiot for allowing this to happen, Bellatrix's desire was so dark and intense she wasn't sure how far she would go once she really unleashed herself.

Hermione was already soaking, and Bellatrix was sure she could get her off with just a few strokes of her clit. Bellatrix brought her right up to that edge, until her head was thrown back and she was whining louder and louder with every touch, and then she pulled away entirely. Bellatrix stood up and smirked down at the girl, a shaking, beautiful, pathetic thing sprawled out on the floor.

There were tears running down Hermione's cheeks when she whimpered, "Bellatrix, please don't do this,"

"Stand up," Bellatrix ordered casually.

Hermione wiped her face and got to her feet unsteadily, wrapping her arms around her bare chest to cover herself.

"Go to that table over there," she pointed to the mahogany table pushed against the east wall of the room.

Hermione followed her command without hesitation and stopped facing the table, her back to Bellatrix.

"Bend over and spread your legs," Bellatrix husked. Hermione did what she said, bending over and placing her hands shoulder width apart on the tabletop to support herself. Bellatrix took slow, calculated steps in her direction, heels clicking against the hardwood. She watched the anticipation building in the younger girl; the trembling shoulders, the audible panting.

Bellatrix finally reached her, grasped her hips and pressed herself against her backside. Hermione let out a soft moan at the contact. Bellatrix then hooked her fingers in Hermione's belt loops and with a sharp tug, yanked the girl's pants and underwear all the way down to form shackles at her ankles. With her foot, Bellatrix kicked her legs apart further, as wide as they would spread with the jeans constricting her. She slid her hand around her, wasting no time dipping into her slick folds.

Hermione moaned loudly, the noise reverberating off the walls of the room like the most beautiful melody Bellatrix had ever heard. Hopeless to restrain herself any longer, she pushed two fingers inside the girl without warning and began slamming in and out of her at a devastating speed. After mere seconds Hermione's legs were trembling as she tried to keep herself upright. Bella's other hand came around to tweak her nipple and palm her breasts hard enough to hurt her.

Hermione was soaking wet, allowing Bella's fingers to move at breakneck speed. Unlike the last time, Bellatrix didn't worry about hurting her too much, in fact she reveled in every cry of pain every time she did something a little too rough. Eight months of separation was pent up inside the both of them, and Bellatrix imagined if they'd been separated any longer they'd end up killing each other in their enthusiasm. What a way to go.

Bella recognized the telltale signs of Hermione approaching climax and she brought her hand around to dig her nails into her back and drag them down. A trail of blood sprouted in the wake of her fingers and she sent Hermione over the edge hard enough to make her scream violent ecstasy. Her walls clamped tight around Bella's fingers as she continued to pump, not slowing her pace at all. Before Hermione had recovered, Bellatrix grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, shoving her back until her ass slid up onto the table. With her feet off the ground, Hermione kicked off her shoes and jeans to free her legs.

"Bella…I don't think I can take any more…" Hermione murmured, flushed and dazed with Bella's fingers still inside her.

"This is likely our last time together, dearest, so I suggest you rethink that," Bellatrix said, pulling her fingers out to play with Hermione's oversensitive clit.

The girl's eyes fluttered open wider at that, and she wrapped her legs around Bellatrix to draw her in closer.

"Maybe after I turn you over to the Dark Lord, he'll let me keep you as a pet," Bellatrix purred, "It's not likely, seeing as he's quite angry with me, but it's a nice thought isn't it?"

Bellatrix licked the sweat forming at Hermione's collarbone, then dragged her lips up to whisper in her ear, "Would you like that, muddy? I could get you a nice, expensive collar. You could sit at my feet for meetings, wait for me naked in bed every night. We could be together, like I always promised,"

"Bella, you know that's not what I want," Hermione sighed, "Run away with me,"

Bellatrix pulled back, her expression growing oddly serious, "That's still what you want? I'm the monster you always feared,"

Hermione shook her head, pulled her hands through Bella's hair and kissed her chastely. Her movements were slow, her body drunk and sluggish with lust.

"I know the woman I love is in there somewhere. Maybe I could even…love who you are now," Hermione said against her lips.

Bellatrix stared into her eyes, needing to know if she meant it. She found nothing but hazy desire and sincerity. The idea that the girl could still love her, even now, was something she'd never considered. Impassioned, Bellatrix roughly drove three fingers into Hermione, stretching her like she never had before.

Hermione's eyes flew open and she cried Bella's name. Her thighs locked around Bella's waist and she brought her in closer, until all Bellatrix could think about was the thick, heady smell of her, all she could see was Hermione's flushed, hot skin and all she could hear were the wonderful wanton moans she emitted. Her desire for the girl was consuming, deafening, it ran bone-fucking- deep. She needed to leave her mark on her, fuck her so hard that no matter how this ended she would never be able to touch another person without thinking of her.

She reamed into her hard and fast, sucking and biting at the girl's pink mouth until her lips were swollen and blood red. Hermione was so tight Bella's fingers ached from the crushing pressure of the girls slick walls. The table shook under their menstruations and soon the candlesticks and silver dishes on it went clattering to the floor. One of Hermione's hands flew back and smacked onto the surface to support herself. Bellatrix noticed the girl's newfound leverage and only fucked her harder, the table slamming into the wall with every thrust. Bellatrix found herself mesmerized by Hermione's breasts bouncing in time with her pumping fingers.

"Oh, _fuck_!" Hermione moaned, and Bellatrix loved the way she only cursed when she was knuckle deep inside her.

Bellatrix knew she was close, and she brought her hand around to clasp around Hermione's throat, sighing at the feel of the delicate sinews of tissue straining under her hand. She squeezed harder than she ever had before, not pausing in her thrusts. Hermione's face turned red as she tried in vain to suck in any air and Bellatrix curled her fingers inside her, finding that perfect spot effortlessly and rubbing mercilessly. Right as she spasmed around her, Bellatrix released her neck. The girl's fingers scraped painfully across her scalp as she came, gushing around Bella's fingers.

" _Merlin,"_ Bellatrix whispered, struck at the sheer amount of wetness coming from Hermione in spurts. Hermione was still gasping for air when they heard a crash from somewhere in the house, destroying the mood. Bellatrix flew into motion, detaching herself from Hermione to pick up her sweater and toss it at her.

"Get dressed, _now,_ " she snapped.

Hermione didn't have to be told twice. She yanked her clothes back on in record time, wrinkling her nose when she pulled her underwear and jeans back on over her sensitive nether regions. While Hermione was distracted, Bellatrix discreetly turned away to press a finger to her Dark Mark. She thought she'd feel victorious, but she just felt…empty. When she turned back around, Hermione had just shoved her feet back into her shoes when Ron and Harry burst into the room.

Bellatrix's mind was spinning from the events of the last several minutes. Leave it to that blasted mudblood to have her throwing out all her plans the moment they made physical contact. The situation at hand had boiled down to two simple options; subdue the trio once more and hand them over to the Dark Lord as planned or let them go before he arrived and accept her fate. Bellatrix had done a lot for the woman she loved when she didn't know any better-killed for her, tortured for her, fought for her. Now, she had her memories back, she had _herself_ back, and she really ought to understand that a pureblood dying for a mudblood was absolutely absurd and yet, here she was, the thought playing in her mind. The idea was even more astounding when she recalled that no more than an hour ago she'd been considering killing her lover as a viable option.

One good fuck and the girl had her hesitating in her ruthlessness, reconsidering her own best interest.

 _No,_ Bellatrix told herself, _this is the old you talking-the pansy with no memories, no principles. I must remind myself who I really am._

To hell with Hermione. She needed her life back. Besides, Hermione hadn't known what she was saying before, when she said she could still love this version of her-this monster. Bellatrix would _show_ her how wrong she was. She'd make Hermione hate her before the Dark Lord killed her. It'd be easier to live with herself after.

Still, she'd been so surprised by Potter and Weasley's sudden appearance, so wrapped up in her own thoughts that the fucking ginger actually managed to _disarm_ her. She'd make sure he was killed first, just for that. Before Hermione could take a step, Bellatrix shot forward and snatched her around the waist. She couldn't be sure but it almost seemed like Hermione hadn't bothered trying to get away from her at all. Before she could think on what that meant any longer, she pulled out her dagger and held it to her throat.

At the commotion, the Malfoys had all come running back into the room. The moment Lucius entered Harry disarmed him and Bellatrix would've laughed if the situation wasn't so dire. Her very life was riding on this, after all.

"Sorry about this, love," Bellatrix whispered while the fighting occurred before them, "I don't have another choice,"

They both knew she did, and she expected Hermione to say as much. She thought she'd beg for her life.

"I know," Hermione said instead, "I forgive you,"

Bellatrix's mind short-circuited. Hermione rested calmly back against her, ready to die. _For her._ Bella had lived a long time, loved a lot of people, with her memories fresh inside her head she knew this now better than ever. And never, in all those years had anyone been willing to die for her.

The fight raged until she finally recovered her voice, "Stop!"

Everyone turned to look at them. The terror was clear in Weasley's eyes and Bellatrix could only hope her own emotions didn't show on her face.

_I must make her hate me._

"Drop your wands or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is," she snapped.

She's seen Hermione's blood herself, of course. She'd seen it coating her shaking hands, glimmering red in the fiendfyre.

Her hands were shaking again now. To conceal the motion, she pressed the blade harder into Hermione's neck, drawing blood. The boys dropped their wands the moment her blood appeared, and Hermione still refused to struggle in her arms.

Draco scurried to pick up the disregarded wands.

Bellatrix lowered her voice so only Hermione would hear her, "The Dark Lord is almost here. Hate me yet?"

Desperation was creeping into her voice. Hermione didn't respond, her attention was pulled away by something happening above them. Bellatrix just noticed the strange tinkering noise when Hermione cried out.

"Bella!"

Bellatrix didn't quite understand what was happening but suddenly Hermione grabbed her arm, the one with the dagger, and threw her weight to her side, propelling both of them into motion. The two collapsed on the ground mere inches from the chandelier that came crashing down on the spot they'd just occupied.

She'd landed with Hermione on top of her, shielding her. When Bellatrix shoved her off it hit her that Hermione had not only just saved her life, but she'd protected her body from the shards of glass that went flying. Bellatrix stared at the flecks of glass embedded in the back of Hermione's right shoulder, the shoulder that had been blocking her face, and with a flash of anger she knew what had to happen next.

"Go," Bellatrix hissed.

Hermione stared at her, dumbfounded, and Bellatrix shoved her, "Get out of here, before I change my mind,"

"Not without you," Hermione said desperately, clutching Bella's sleeve.

Bellatrix didn't have time to explain all the reasons why she couldn't. Even if Hermione could accept her now, her friends never would. She loved her, yes, but despite everything she loved Voldemort too and she didn't have it in her to leave him again. Even if she could leave him, and she managed to help them win the war, Hermione's world would never forgive a Death Eater with as high of a body count as she'd accumulated. She would be executed, and she wasn't sure Hermione could handle loving her all over again only to watch her die at the hands of the people she cared about. What Hermione could handle was Bellatrix dying before she had a chance to love her again.

The nail in the coffin was Bellatrix's pride. She couldn't let Hermione die, so she was forced to betray her Lord once again. If she was to hold on to any scrap of honor remaining after such a betrayal, she would have to accept her fate. It was the only choice she could live with; save the woman she loved and die at the hands of the Lord she could no longer devote herself to completely.

"Don't you get it, muddy? _I don't want to go with you._ Maybe I don't want you to die but I don't love you. I never did, you fucking idiot," Bellatrix hissed, pouring every bit of fabricated venom she could muster to make it convincing.

She succeeded, the evidence showed itself in the devastation on Hermione's face. She looked about as torn up inside as Bellatrix was, only she knew Hermione could survive it. Bellatrix wouldn't, but at least she wouldn't have to suffer for long. Death would be arriving for her any moment now.

Ron was at Hermione's side now, and it was the first time Bellatrix didn't want to murder him just by looking at him. He dragged Hermione to her feet and away from her, over to where Harry and the Elf waited. Draco helped Bellatrix to her feet and Bellatrix stared after Hermione, reliving the pain she'd felt at having to watch her leave at the wedding.

Only this time, Bellatrix didn't have the pleasure of holding Hermione's gaze until the end. The ache was even worse now that she knew death was certainly around the corner and no one would mourn her. The Gryffindor's eyes had slipped shut in her agony and Bellatrix wanted to scream for her to open her eyes and _look at her._

"Bella, what are you doing? Stop them!" Narcissa screamed.

Bellatrix noticed then that Harry held all of their wands in his fist. For once she wanted to pat Draco on the back for failing so miserably. Bellatrix's dagger was the only hope they had. Staring at Hermione's face for the last time, she felt her grip loosen and heard the dagger clatter to the floor.

Then they were gone.

The room hung in deafening silence. Hermione was gone from her forever now, and Bellatrix awaited Voldemort's arrival stoically. She recalled her promise to Hermione, that she would destroy anything that tried to tear them apart. When she'd spoken those words she never imagined that the thing she'd have to protect Hermione from would be herself.

There was a _crack_ and there he was-standing in the wreckage of the drawing room, the crime scene of Bellatrix's greatest betrayal. Bellatrix wanted to continue in her cool indifference to her fate, but the sight of him had her shaking.

"My dear Bella," Voldemort said, "I always knew you'd come back to me,"

He pointed his wand and violently entered her mind once again. Instinctively she struggled against the assault but quickly realized there was no point. She wouldn't be making it out of this alive. She only concealed one thing from him; Narcissa's role in hiding her. Voldemort seemed interested only in the events of the last few hours anyway, and he saw every detail, felt her every thought and emotion.

When it finally ended, she felt his rage like a physical presence in the room before she opened her eyes to see his face. She'd seen him angry before, of course, but she'd never had this level of it directed at her. She'd seen how angry he got before he carelessly took someone's life, but this was different. This was beyond murderous rage.

"If you had turned Potter over to me, I could have forgiven your past transgressions," Voldemort began slowly, "You were like a stupid child, you didn't know any better. But now, you have openly defied me with full knowledge of what that would mean. All for mudblood filth,"

Unable to hold his gaze any longer, Bellatrix tucked her chin against her chest as her lower lip began to tremble. Her chest was hot with shame at her inability to show bravery in her final moments, but this was the one person in the world she truly feared.

"I hope that last fuck was worth it," Voldemort spat. She gathered the courage to glance up again in time to see him point his wand once more.

"Wait!" Narcissa cried.

Voldemort ignored her. All the heat left Bellatrix's body, struck cold by fear. This was it.

" _Crucio_ ,"

A pain that surpassed any she'd ever felt wracked her body. She saw white, and in the madness of her agony she thought perhaps she misheard, surely he must've killed her and she'd immediately descended into hell. Her ears rang and all vision was gone, it felt as though her body was being torn apart by the fire. She knew nothing but this all-encompassing, searing torment.

Then, as quickly as it came it was gone. She was laying on the floor now, staring dizzily up at where the chandelier used to be.

A voice drifted through the fog as she slowly regained her senses.

"Did you think I would kill you?" A man laughed. Voldemort, she remembered.

She swallowed against her shredded throat, understood she must've screamed it raw.

Voldemort continued, "Death is a mercy you don't deserve,"

Someone was sobbing. _Hermione?_ Bellatrix wondered. Was she hallucinating again? _No,_ she realized, _that's Cissy._ Why did people bother crying over her anymore? Didn't they realize all she did was cause pain, weren't they used to it by now?

She wished she'd hallucinate again. If only she could see Hermione once more. Perhaps Voldemort was right, though. If she didn't even deserve a quick death, perhaps she didn't deserve to see Hermione again, even if it wasn't real. Maybe all there was for her now was pain.

" _Crucio,"_ Voldemort said again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an extremely busy few weeks coming up but I'm really excited about the next chapter so I'll try my best to update it as soon as I can! I love your comments, I read and appreciate every one! Thanks for reading.


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